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squoxle · 5 months

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🎄Christmas Fun w/ Enhypen

☃︎ pairing: Enhypen!bf x Reader!gf | ☃︎ wc: 930 ~ 100+ wc per member | ☃︎ summary: Christmas/Winter themed activities each member would do with you (in my opinion) | ☃︎ cw: it’s pure fluff so have fun 🎁😘🎄

🎄희승~Heeseung wc: 132

Correct me if I'm wrong, but Heeseung is such a loser boyfriend--but in a cute way like he just wants to chill with you yk

Anyways, I could definitely see him wanting to watch a billion Christmas movies with you while you snuggled up together.

"Hey, babe. Do you want any snacks?" he asked as you layed on his chest. "No, I'm alright," you said looking up at him. "You sure?" he asked again...you could tell he wanted something, but didn't want to get up only for himself. "You know what? I'd like some cookies...or maybe some ice cream," you suggested. "How about both," he smiled before running off to create your tasty toothache.

Being that this is Heeseung...it could get freaky, but I think cuddling would be great for now.

🎄제이~Jay wc: 132

We all know how much of a husband Jay is. So we shouldn't be surprised when he calls you in the kitchen to bake cookies with him.

I could see him coming over to wrap an apron around your waist before you go over to look at the recipe he printed out.

"Soooo, what do we do first?" you ask. "Hmm, let's get out the ingredients and then we can start," he said as you scanned the list with your eyes. After gathering the ingredients and mixing the dough Jay grabs a spoon for you to scoop the cookies onto the tray.

Ok...I can see things getting really cute after this, like maybe one of you mention something about baking cookies with your future kids and the other one blushes. EEK!

🎄제이크~Jake wc: 149

As our cute little Aussie boy, I feel like Jake would have fun making a gingerbread house with you.

I can see him getting frustrated as he struggles to keep the walls together.

“Ahh,” Jake sighed as the walls fell down. “Jake…you can’t do them all at once,” you said picking up the frosting covered gingerbread pieces. “Ugh, and you used too much icing,” you giggled. “They’ll never stay together with all this stuff,” you added as you watched Jake hopelessly scrape the frosting off. “Argh! This is impossible!” Jake laughed as he tried again. “Here, let me do it,” you smiled as you held the pieces in place. *Crunch* you looked over to see Jake eating the little candy decorations. “Save some for the house,” you giggled as he licked the icing from his fingers.

Who wouldn’t have fun making a gingerbread house with this cutie patootie~

🎄성훈~Sunghoon wc: 111

You should immediately expect the Ice Prince to take you out on an ice skating date...duhhhh

I can literally see him laughing with you and holding your hands while you struggled to stop yourself from falling flat on your ass.

"Relax, princess. Just keep your eyes on me," he'd smile as you trembled. "I'm scared," you whined. "What if I fall?" "If you fall I'll catch you," he reassured you as the two of you continued inching around the rink. Eventually, you'd do well enough to skate slowly, but you enjoyed watching your boyfriend dance on the ice.

Afterwards he'd probably take you out for coffee...because...why not? Sunghoon LOVES coffee.

🎄선우~Sunoo wc: 160

I feel like Sunoo is the type of guy to love doing arts and crafts. So making cute Christmas cards for everyone is right up his alley.

I could see you two playing around with stickers and glitter as you created you holiday masterpieces.

“What do you think?” You said lifting up your googly eyed reindeer card. “It’s for Heeseung,” you continued. “Awww. Cute,” he smiled. “I know our Bambi boy will love it. Wanna see mine?” He asked. “Yesss!” You smiled. Sunoo lifted up a card covered with glitter and heart stickers. “Who’s that for?” You asked with a puzzled look on your face. “Do you like it?” He asked immediately. “Yeah, but who’s it for?” You asked again. “It’s for you. I just wanted to make sure you liked it first,” he giggled before placing it down to scribble some designs on it.

OMGGGGG!!! The more I think about it the more I can see this happening!

🎄정원~Jungwon wc: 134

Maybe it's because he's the leader, but I could see Jungwon and you decorating the Christmas tree together. It would be sooooo cute omg.

You'd be helping him hang ornaments and string garland all around the tree. He'd most likely even let you put the angel on top (or the star...whatever you prefer)

"Wow, we did a really good job," he said stretching as he scanned the tree from top to bottom. "Yeah, we did," you smiled. "Ah, wait...we almost forgot the angel," Jungwon said handing you the cute tree topper. He supported you from behind as you reached up to carefully put the angel on top. "Phew, now it's perfect," you sighed. "Just like you," Jungwon said before hugging you from behind.

Is this cute or what??!!! Help this just radiates Wonergy.

🎄니키~Niki wc: 115

Being the fun, lovable maknae that he is, I could so totally see Niki wanting to build a snowman with you.

Just don't say anything cringey because he WILL call you out for it.

"Aww he's so cute," you said looking at the snowman you and Niki built together. "Oh yeah, well how about you date him instead," he teased to which you just rolled your eyes. "Well hopefully he takes me out on better dates," you teased back. "Hmm looks like he already bought you dinner," Niki smiled mischievously. "Wh--" you were cut off by a snowball launched right at your face.

Yeah...I can definitely see you two getting into a snowball fight.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @nikisdubblchococake @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @nikisblkgf @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

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corruptratcat · 11 months

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Hi! I stumbled upon your blog a few days ago and I really like your scenarios and hc's! ^^ Could you please write headcanons for mahiru, haruka and mu (separately) x gn!reader where they try to bake a cake together? With mu it could be a mille crepe cake and with haruka maybe a chocolate one, but you can pick whatever cake you want!! ^^

♥︎ ~ Baking Cakes ~ ♥︎

milgram x gn!reader | headcanons

Hiatus over ♥︎

You two decided on making a chocolate cake! Cause Haruka seems to like it a lot, so you two get to work!!

He doesn't know what he's doing most of the time just really trying his best to assist and help you as best as he can!

Though that may be the case he'll start to get used to it, he'll give it his all, even though he gets quite overwhelmed about the ingredients, the measurements, and other stuff!

Sometimes he just stands there, intimidated about everything so you give him the courage to go on and help bake the cake!

The part where you add the frostings, helping Haruka by being at his back and holding his hands as you guide him with it!

After it's done, the cake smells good and looks good, eating it after all that baking... Maybe even feeding him the cake with the fork!.. The sweet chocolate taste!!

Deciding on the Mille Crepe Cake, you two start on making it

Muu doesn't really bake, cook or anything so this is a whole new experience for her but at least she'll learn with her loved one~

I like to think there's little arguements, sort of on the way "I already added the milk! Don't add more!" You hurriedly tried to stop Muu "Your measurements were wrong! I'm adding just a few little more!"

After some time, you two plan on designing the cake, this is a very important step for you two, having to make it look the best as it can be! Going on every possible design of the cake!

But in the end you two just put some strawberries or maybe even one on top and start eating!

Muu demands you feed her with the fork, it's a must!

You two will be making cupcakes! Mahiru wants them in each unique designs as she rambles how she'll make this cute as it can be! Oh and she got you two matching cute aprons,

You two start making it, Mahiru already gets everything prepared! She knows what to do, grabbing everything swiftly, and also letting you grab the stuff you'll need as well

She likes to get a little playful, perhaps throwing a little bit of flour at you, only a little! But this little playful fight won't get too far since you don't want to waste so much cause of this!~

You two cuddle up a bit just waiting around as the cupcakes heat up in the oven, Mahiru can't control her excited mood for them to be finished, she's quite impatient but you keep her still by being affectionate with each other at the moment

When it's done, the frosting added, Mahiru goes all over the way with the toppings and decoration, you help her with it as well, designing each cupcake to be unique, and after that you both eat the cupcakes happily so~

#x reader #milgram x reader #haruka sakurai x reader #mahiru shiina x reader #muu kusunoki x reader #haruka sakurai #muu kusunoki #mu kusunoki x reader #mahiru shiina #milgram

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luvring · 24 days

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NIA THAT WAS AMAZING TY FOR ANSWERING MY KEIJI ASK 🫶🫶 and that bkak comic was so cute !!! pls tell me all ur thoughts on them Please 🙏 would love u forever if u did

Thank U Anon. love u. they're just niacore... the fluff! the humour! knowing each other completely! unwavering support! inspiring each other to be better! my cat and dog! ☹️

they're both vry comforting and lovely 2 me albeit in different ways, so Together. . .Wow. W-O-W. Stars Align Worlds Collide Heaven On Earth. put me in coach. furudate wrote them 4 me specifically 🫂

bkak hcs bkak hcs ouaghhh!!!

first and foremost. bkak rescued a cat together. Walk with me. the story me and my irl (summer) concocted long ago is that they saw a cat in a parking lot late at night and got vry worried !! bokuto is more outwardly panick-y and akaashi gets him to calm down (devastated inside) so they can run to the nearest pet store to get food... they go through the whole process of checking for a name tag + going to the vet etc but in the end !! they adopt the kitty!! YAAAY!! we never picked a gender or name or what it looks like or anything. i will have 2 ask my irls for ideas... if u have any Lmk.

^ they spoil the cat sooo much. SOO much the first day it's at their house they just watch as it explores and take so many pics... get a comfy bed and cat tree and treats and toys yeahhh spoiled baby. i know they were giggling over it having one of their last names btw. I KNOWWW 🙁

i really love the idea of bkak thrifting for home decor together actually. because u know they're gonna get something silly.. maybe start a little animal sculpture collection... a piece of abstract art they discussed for 15 minutes because bokuto swears he can see a giraffe in it and akaashi is stuck squinting confused. their place is really quite nice but there's these little things around!

bokuto asking akaashi to kiss him after each workout set as motivation 🥹 akaashi asking for a kiss after he's done reviewing another chapter 🥹

we must allow akaashi keiji to be a little weird. a silly boyfailure. WE MUSTTT WE MUST!!! bokuto knows this better than anyone... leans into akaashi's weird shirts and looks out for them when he's on trips... akaashi says something just so incoherent while he's tired and bokuto acts as a translator and or rubs his shoulders and chides him for staying up so late... yeah.

i know akaashi cooks for bokuto in the comic but 🥹🥹 bokuto trying to cook for akaashi as a surprise... puts on an apron, watches videos, reads recipes like he takes it Seriously! tries so hard and even asks osamu for help, so even if it isn't the best in the world akaashi thinks he might cry like omg 🙁

i think i've said this here before but. akaashi has so much access to official bokuto merch y'know. he's kou's #1 supporter fr fr and when kou gets him stuff for free he's like !!!! BUT! no akaashi merch :( ? this is devastating for bokuto... what does he do ? get custom pieces made of course. the pride and giddiness on his face while he wears his new sweater with akaashi's name. keiji's face is so red. BOKUTO GETTING A KEIJI DOLL. "now make them hold hands" "now kiss" yeahvyeah yehnayeau

akaashi broke his glasses once by accidentally falling asleep with them on so when bokuto notices he takes them off for him! and carries him to bed obviously.

rent a boyfriend with Bokuaka. Walk With Me. it truly works either way and in so many scenarios... one needs a date to a wedding? one was told to do so by a friend? one was drunk and said fuck it? the butterflies and tension... the confusion... being closer than they would be with a regular client... bumping into each other on a regular day... I love u bokuaka.

touches water and watches it ripple... bokuto inviting akaashi to play volleyball with him.... it's been ages since keiji's gotten to set... but then bokuto spikes and they remember what it felt like to play together.. and and amdnanffnff

here's translated versions of bkak letters that someone wrote. I actually felt my chest cave in before i found out it was a threadfic. IT HURTSOSBAD

and here's a bunch of art. for u. for me.

Twitter user 45__kk Means The World To Me. here are a few posts: one two three four five six. i could keep going. 45__KK U MEAN THE WORLD TO ME!!

this and this changed my lifoie.r. Thiswchsngemfylfirnd. and this

any art where akaashi wears bokuto's jersey... < This changed mylifr. It's over. Everybody Go Home. this one specifically has changed me forever. no joke. NOjoek. Ouggnggngn

MY LEG 😭

this video means the world to me. really anything where akaashi goes to bokuto for a hug. any. an. pelaspe.

MY FAWKING LEG

this art shifted something inside my soul 4ever

it can't be overstated what chengongzi123 has done for me. they don't do a lot of bkak anymore but they've changed my life forever. here's some: one two three four five six seven (< college au..)

i also love GyappiM... many sketches. Love my life. one two three

BARBIE! adore this artist too.

CATS 😭😭🫶🫶 national cat day.. Best day ever. MY BOKUAKA. yeah. can't scroll down enough on my twt to get more butbyeahh.

#🧾nia.answers #<3 anon #<3 bokuaka #catch up #i keep saying irl and so much of the time its judt summer.#Plz rememberhis name. Will just start referring to them as summer.#those bkak letters were such a crZy thing to open twt to PELASE MY CHEST HURTS SO BAD MY BOKUAKA

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lily-drake · 3 years

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE, THE BEST BAT BOY OF THEM ALL!!! YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND!!!!!!

Happy Birthday Tim

Tim never really cared for his birthday, afterall nobody ever remembered it, and he doubted that Bruce would care. He had never shown much of an interest in him, which was fine since he wasn’t supposed to get close to him. His entire job as Robin was to make sure Batman didn’t go crazy, he wasn’t supposed to get attached. So he didn’t, at least that’s what he told himself. It was around 10:45 PM when Tim went upstairs at Alfred’s request. Timidly the 14 year old walked into the kitchen only to be met with a small white cake. Upon closer inspection the cake had red and green letting that spelled out in neat scroll, “Happy Birthday Timothy” with perfectly cut strawberries decorating the sides. Tim stared at the cake in awe, he’d never been given a birthday cake before, except at galas; but that didn’t count as he wasn’t really aloud to eat any.

“Good to see you up here Master Timothy. Happy birthday young sir. I apologize for the others absence, but I’m afraid that they are ‘busy’.”

Tim swiftlet lifted up his arms in a placating manner,

“Oh no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t want to bother anyone.”

Alfred gave him a small smile and nodded.

“Well, I believe that it is time for a bit of cake.”

Alfred walked around the counter and pulled out a plate, for, and knife before he cut a large piece and plated it. Tim held back tears as he took his first bite of the cake. This was the best cake he had ever had, and this was definitely his favorite birthday.

*******

Tim stared at the computer screen in front of him trying to figure out what he was missing. He was tired, he hadn’t slept in a few days, and he was on his 8th cup of coffee from that hour alone.

“Tim, come with me!”

Dick said, suddenly on his right side. Out of habit he turned and threw a punch at him. Dick quickly ducked and laughed.

“Your getting faster baby bird.”

Tim sighed and rolled his eyes turning back to the computer.

“What do you need, Dick?”

He asked typing something onto the screen and scrunching his brow in frustration at the facts in front of him. Dick rolled his eyes and sighed before he grabbed Tim and pulled him from the computer chair and onto his feet. Tim groaned and tried to pull away in protest, but Dick overpowered him and he was dragged up the stairs. Tim looked around to see where he was so he could make a quick escape if necessary. When he looked forward again he saw he was being dragged to one of the main room doors. He was thinking and going through all of the things he could have missed or forgotten, but nothing came to mind. When the door opened the lights were off until they suddenly turned on and loud voices screamed,

“Happy birthday!”

From all around the room. Tim blinked a few times everything catching up to him as he looked around and saw his family; Bruce, Alfred, Barbara, Stephanie, Cass, and Dick all around him. The room was covered in decorations and on the table sat a decent sized 3 tier cake, just like the one he had had when turned fourteen, but bigger. Tim ran through his memory and tried to recall what the date was and froze. Oh, it was his 16th birthday, he had forgotten all about it. He was pulled out of his stooped by Steph grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the table were 16 candles lined the rim of the cake and in the center it said, “Happy 16th Birthday Tim!” in the neatest cursive with a robin made of frosting right below it. There was also neatly plated and perfectly made sushi on another table near them. Tim smiled as everyone began to sing happy birthday to him and when he was done he blew out the candles happy and content with his day. There was so much warmth that spread through his chest as he talked and ate cake with his family. So much joy that surrounded the manor, he even saw Bruce smile. Tim didn’t need to wish for anything, he was happy, and that’s all he could ever wish for.

*******

Tim looked at his watch and frowned. He was now officially 19, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered much now. He was alone in Paris training with Lady Shiva, and his family didn’t care. They were the ones who kicked him out afterall, he wasn’t wanted. He sat under a shady tree bench in the park and watched as people talked and interacted with eachother. It was peaceful, but that didn’t fill the hollowness he felt in his chest. As he stood and began to walk away he felt someone crash into him and fell foreword, someone landing on his back. Quickly the person got up and began to call out apologies obviously embarrassed. Tim got up and turned around and came face to face with a girl about his age with dark black hair that tinted blue in the light and show startlingly bright bluebell eyes. The girl was still talking and he wasn’t sure if she had even breathed yet.

“Hey, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it.”

The girl immediately bit her lip and bowed her head as she tried to hide her face. Tim smiled at the girl who was slightly shorter than him.

“I’m Tim.”

He said casually as he held out his hand. The girl gave an awkward smile before excepting his hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Marinette. Sorry again.”

“It’s nice to meet you Marinette. Do you know where any good coffee shops are, I haven’t slept in a while and I really need a pick me up to finish my things.”

Marinette lit up and nodded.

“I totally understand. I design and commissions keep me up all night half the time. I live in a bakery and have concocted the best wake up coffee. My friends say it’s very dangerous and I’m going to kill myself with it one day, but all well. Why sleep when you can get things done?!”

Tim smiled at the girl as she began to walk and talk. She was cute and was very dramatic in the way she spoke and expressed herself. They walked across the street to a small bakery, the one Marinette must live in, and walked to the front where a short Asian woman stood near the register. When the woman saw Marinette her smile grew as she welcomed them.

“I’m gonna make one of my specials for him!”

Marinette called out as she went to the back and started making some kind of coffee concoction. The woman rolled her eyes, but she still held an amused smile.

“Hello, I’m Sabine. Please choose a sweet, you’ll need it if you’re going to drink her “Miracle Cure”, as the college students like to call it.”

“Thank miss. Please, call me Tim.”

He said giving her a small smile back as he browsed the selection. In the display he noticed lots of animal themed treats and smiled. There were many ladybug and cat themed ones as well as an orange fox, a turtle, a bee, a blue snake, a monkey, and a red dragon. It was an interesting choice of animals and he wondered if they were important in some way here. He found a small tarte aux fruits with an assortment of fruits that formed the red dragon. When he looked up he saw the woman waiting for him still wearing her friendly smile.

“Could I please have the Tarte aux fruits du dragon please?”

“Of course dear.”

Carefully she opened the door to the refrigerated case and grabbed one of the fruit tarts and carefully put it in a small box. Tim went to the register right as Marinette had finished and placed the large drink in front of him. He pulled out his wallet but was stopped by Marinette’s hand.

“Nope, on the house. An apology for earlier.”

She said with a bright smile. Tim was shocked and felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in years begin to bloom once again. He gently took the coffee from her hands and carefully picked up the small box with a plastic fork atop it.

“Thank you, Marinette. That’s very kind of you.”

Her smile brightened and before Tim could stop or even think of what he was saying the words had already left his mouth,

“If you’re free, do you want to walk around Paris with me?”

Marinette blinked for a moment shocked, but then smiled again and nodded.

“Sure, that sounds nice!”

She took off the apron she had been wearing while making the coffee and hung it up on a wrack before walking out from behind the counter snd grabbing his arm and almost dragging him out the door. When she realized what she was doing she quickly dropped it slightly blushing and scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment.

“S-sorry. I should have asked first.”

Tim snickered a little, she was adorable.

“No it’s fine, so where to first?”

Tim asked as he gently placed the tart in his satchel and sipped the coffee. When he did he felt his mind begin to clear and he felt more awake than he had in a long time. He understood why it was called Miracle Cure now, this stuff was amazing!

“Well, where were you thinking of?”

“I was thinking of going to the Arc de Triomphe then head towards the Effiel Tower.”

Marinette beamed and nodded and began to walk towards the Arc de Triomphe. She knew the path by heart as she often went there for inspiration. The two talked the whole way there and bonded over their love of coffee and insomniac tendencies. As they arrived at their first destination the sat on the steps and watched people pass them. Tim pulled out the small tart and began to slowly eat it and smiled. It tasted like Alfred’s cooking, though he didn’t want to admit that this might just be a bit better. He glanced over at Marinette and noticed that she now had a sketchbook out and was drawing something. He didn’t want to disturb her as he didn’t like being interrupted when he was really into something and let her draw as he watched the people. Suddenly there was a loud crash. He looked up and was shocked to see a giant child walking around smashing and destroying buildings. He looked over and saw that Marinette had disappeared and he began to panic.

He stood up and began to move so he could get a better place to watch and analyze what was happening so that he could see if he needed to interfere. He watched silently from a roof and saw a bunch of people begin to surround the child all with the same theme. His mind flashed to the animals in the bakery and connected the dots as he glanced at all of the different people in animal costumes. He watched as the Ladybug ordered everyone on the plan and on what to do which lead him to believe that she was the leader of this group. It only took a few minutes and he watched the cat hero completely destroy a toy car from the giant child’s hand and a purple feather and butterfly flew out. The ladybug hero quickly caught them and released them into the air. She threw the object she had summoned into the air and he watched in amazement as thousands, maybe millions, of small ladybugs flew around the damage done and repaired all of it, including the bodies that had not been moving moments ago.

Tim ran back to the Arc de Triomphe and waited there to see if Marinette would come back. It took a few minutes and then he saw her figure running towards him with panic and worry.

“Tim, I’m so sorry! Are you ok? I shouldn’t have left like that, I’m so sorry.”

Tim gave her an awkward smile and nodded.

“It’s fine, you came back afterall.”

She smiled at him and he lifted his arm out for her to take,

“Shall we continue our walk Mademoiselle?”

Tim asked with a slight bow. Marinette giggled and gave a small curtsy before she placed her hand atop of his.

“Why of course Monsieur.”

They both laughed as they walked. They enjoyed the silence for a bit before Tim asked what had happened.

Marinette gave him a sad sigh and explained the situation that had been happening in Paris for about 4 years now. Tim was shocked that this hadn’t made it to the Justuce League, especially if it had been happening for four entire years. Tim asked a few more questions that Marinette happily answered and they felt happy and content in the warm companionable silence. Tim thought of all of his past birthdays, and he knew that this one was on the top 5 best list of his favorite birthdays.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE!!!!!!!!!#Tim Drake #Dick Grayson #Maribat #marinette dupen chang #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #mlb x batman #timinette #timari #romantic timinette #Bruce Wayne #alfred pennyworth #Tim is best robin #Fight me

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Home for the Holidays | Robert Pronge (aka Mr. Freezy) x reader

summary: robert is tired of pretending to be normal, he’s tired of the shitty holiday known as christmas and he’s really fucking tired of watching his adorable, innocent next door neighbor without getting a real taste. luckily, he has a plan to solve all three of these things.

word count: a bit over 5k

warnings: smut (noncon, vaginal and anal), gunplay, bondage, stalking, kidnapping, slight-to-medium breeding kink, innocent!reader, lots of degradation, blood mention, pain kink, spitting, implied age gap (??? kinda), cringy and disturbing dirty talk, maaaaybe the darkest thing I’ve ever written… proceed with extreme caution

Robert hated the holidays. The fact that it was too cold to sell ice cream was a factor, sure, but he didn’t like anything else about them either— the cheesy music, the stupid advertisements on TV, the gaudy decorations everywhere… he wasn’t sure if there was anything he liked about this time of year. Getting gifts would be nice if he actually had any friends or family to do that with. Giving gifts sounded like too much fucking work anyway. He was sick and tired of this stupid holiday and the way it started sooner every year, too.

This year, when he heard Jingle Bell Rock on the radio for the first time of the season, something snapped. He wasn’t going to just sit idly by and let the holidays come and go. He wasn’t going to avoid and half-tolerate all the dreaded ‘cheer’ and ‘spirit’ like he had for the past few years. No no, this year was going to be different.

This year, he was going to get a Christmas present for himself: you.

He’d been watching you for a long time, since the day you moved in next door. It wasn’t often that a young woman lived alone around here, and for good reason. Still, you had this air of blissful ignorance about you— you never caught him spying on you, for one, and when he was spying you were always off in your own little world, listening to your records, daydreaming about god-knows-what. He wished he could know, because he figured it was something innocent and wholesome.

You weren’t all innocent and wholesome, though. He’d seen you doing the things you did when you were totally alone (or at least, you thought you were), late at night, cuddled up under the covers…

He wanted to see more, though. He wanted to see everything. And he was tired of waiting.

He was on his porch when you came home, and he waved; you waved back, your hands obscured by big fuzzy mittens. Damn did he miss the summers, when you would wear tank tops and short shorts and wash your car in the sunlight. Now you were all bundled up in coats and scarves, and even though you looked sort of adorable like this, he missed that perfect body he knew you were hiding under there.

You were bringing groceries in from the car, and he could see you had a few bags in the backseat. “That’s a lot to carry, lemme help you,” he offered as he jumped up from his seat and walked towards you.

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ve got it,” you dismissed, but you started to stumble and he had to catch you so you wouldn’t fall and drop your stuff. “Thanks,” you mumbled awkwardly as you caught your footing— you felt so good in his arms he could barely stand it.

“What is all this?” he asked as he glanced into the bags.

“Oh, uh, just Christmas stuff,” you explained. He furrowed his brow as he saw you had bought enough food to feed a whole family.

“Your folks comin’ into town or something?” he pressed, pulling one of the paper bags open to see inside. “Or are you hosting a party I didn’t get invited to?”

“Uh, neither,” you laughed, “my family doesn’t… no, they’re not coming. And there’s no party. I just love cooking Christmas food and I thought, why not? I mean, I’ll freeze whatever I can’t finish and have meals for the next month…”

“So you’re gonna make this whole ham just for yourself?” he clarified, admiring your ambition.

“Yep!” you grinned. “I know it’s stupid, but I just love Christmas and I don’t think I need to justify celebrating it to a grinch like you.”

“A grinch? Says who?”

“Freezy, you’re the only house on the block that hasn’t put up lights yet,” you smirked. “It’s sort of obvious you don’t like this time of year.”

“Are you kidding? I love Christmas! I’m just subtle about it, that’s all,” he decided sternly.

“Really? Are you going to see anyone for the holidays then?” you pressed.

“Uh, no, I’m sort of an… orphan, I guess you could say. No parents or siblings or anything like that.”

“No girlfriend?” you grinned, elbowing him playfully.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he laughed, “I just know a few women who would be really mad if they heard me say that.”

“You’re such a dog,” you rolled your eyes. “Will you help me carry these in or not?”

He sighed as he picked up two bags and carried them up to your porch, pushing the door open with his back to set them on your counters. He’d been inside your place a few times— mostly with you there, a few times when you weren’t— and he noticed how much you’d changed in the spirit of the season: an enormous, real pine covered in lights and ribbons; decorative ceramic figures all over the place including Santa, elves, reindeer, and even a nativity on the dining table; stockings on the mantle, god knows who those were even for.

You had literally decked your halls with boughs of holly.

“Damn, woman, you went all out!” he observed with wide eyes.

“Well, I thought it would be nice,” you smiled, although it was a somber smile, “you know, Christmas like it used to be…” you trailed off as your gaze became distant. You snapped back to reality with a little sigh, shaking it off and heading back to the car for another load of bags. He understood that emptiness he saw in your eyes, it was all he felt anymore. Maybe you could change that for him; maybe he could change that for you.

Aw, who was he kidding? He didn’t care about that. He just wanted to figure out what you were hiding underneath those puffy winter clothes. If the smell of your stolen panties was anything to go by, it was going to be worth the wait.

Christmas Eve was just as boring and cold as any other day, except that it was filled with a riveting anticipation. That was probably true for most people, but for Robert it was for something much more exciting than presents under the tree.

Nightfall came early, it being winter and all, so it was already pitch dark outside when it was just about time for him to go over for dinner. He considered smashing a window to get in, but then you might call the cops before he had time to explain, so he decided the easier method was just to knock on the front door. He didn’t really care who saw at this point— besides, who’d be staring out their window to spy on their neighbors the night before Christmas? Aside from Robert, that is.

“Oh!” you gasped when you answered the door. The dark red turtleneck looked even better on you up close, like you’d jumped right out of a Norman Rockwell postcard— or a festive pin-up. He didn’t wait for your approval before stepping in and shutting the door behind him, relishing the adorable look you wore as you stared up at him with the perfect mix of confusion and concern.

“I know you didn’t invite me,” he smirked, “but I figure two people alone on Christmas ought to be together, don’t you think?”

“Robert, I—”

He pulled his gun out from his belt, watching you freeze as he pointed it at you.

“I think you should start making dinner, sweetheart,” he instructed darkly. You nodded quickly, walking to the kitchen as he followed you closely. “What are you making?”

“H-ham,” you stuttered nervously as you turned on the stove before slipping on a cute little apron with white lace around the edges. “With green bean casserole, and some gingerbread for dessert.”

“Sounds delicious,” he grinned, taking a seat at the bar and keeping his gun pointed towards you.

Your hands were shaking as you tried to chop the ingredients, and he tutted a little in sympathy. “Don’t be scared, honey, ‘m not gonna hurt ya. It’s gonna be a great Christmas— just like the way it used to be, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you shivered, lip quivering, “I… I wish you just would’ve asked if you could have some dinner, Robert, I would’ve happily had you.”

“Oh, you’re gonna have me either way. Up to you if you wanna be happy about it.”

He laughed as he watched your eyes start to water, a meek little sniffle

“Aw, don’t cry, pretty baby,” he cooed, “it’ll make me wanna skip right to the good stuff. But, let’s just have dinner first.”

You stayed quiet after that, cooking in silence as he unabashedly undressed you with his eyes. You looked like a perfect little housewife in that apron; he wanted to see you wearing just that, so he could bend you over the counter and—

Damn, he was already hard, just like that. You’d always had such an effect on him.

He went ahead and took a seat at the table once you were nearly done with the meal, leaning back to let you drape the fancy napkin over his lap (and smirking when you gasped a bit, obviously noticing the bulge in his jeans).

“I hope you like it,” you offered weakly as you set his plate in front of him.

“I’m sure you do,” he grinned, picking up his fork. “You won’t like what’s gonna happen if I don’t.”

You just stood beside him for a moment as he took the first bite, smiling weakly when he hummed in content at the taste. “Aren’t ya gonna eat?” he asked, looking you up and down.

“I’m not hungry,” you explained quickly.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, “it’s good. You’re quite the little chef, aren’t ya?”

“Um, I suppose…” you deflected awkwardly.

“Learn to take a compliment,” he hissed, “say ‘thank you.’”

“Thank you,” you replied dutifully.

“That’s better,” he announced firmly, shovelling the last bite of casserole into his mouth before working on the slices of ham. Your ability to follow instructions was a good sign for how tonight was going to go— apparently for all your naivete, you still had a self-preservation instinct. He couldn’t wait to exploit it.

He continued his meal in silence, delighting in the way your eyes watered and your lip quivered. “Alright, sweetie, dinner’s over,” he announced when he was finished. “Time for dessert.”

You shivered slightly as he stood up and approached you. “You want gingerbread?” you asked innocently. He frowned and shook his head, watching you start to cry again as he roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer.

“I had something even sweeter in mind,” he informed you with a low growl, taking a big whiff of your scent— that same shampoo smell he was used to by now, mixed in with the new perfume you’d gotten a few weeks ago along with the warm, spicy smells of Christmas. “Been waitin’ so long for this,” he groaned lowly as he leaned down to stare right into your fear-widened eyes.

“N-no, please,” you whimpered, weakly attempting to twist out of his grip, “you wouldn’t—”

“I would,” he disagreed as he turned his gun backwards, whipping you across the head with the handle. He caught you before you collapsed, and hoped you wouldn’t be hurting too much when you woke up. But he would deal with that then. Right now, he had a present to wrap.

There was a radiating ache in your skull. You felt that first as you groggily opened your eyes. The next thing you noticed was that you weren’t in your bed. Looking around, you couldn’t see well because the only light was from your Christmas tree, but you could see that you were naked and bound with ropes. Oddly enough, on top of the ropes was thick red ribbon, gathered in a big bow right at your chest.

What the fuck is going on? you were about to ask yourself, but then it all became clear.

The shadows shifted, and your neighbor emerged from them. You struggled against the ropes as you remembered everything, realizing what was happening. Of course you had always thought he was a bit creepy (who didn’t?) but you were nice to him and he was nice to you. How could you have known he was this disturbed?

“That’s my favorite part,” he purred as he stooped down to be eye-level with you. “The moment when they realize what’s going to happen. You were so peaceful just a moment ago, knocked out and without a care in the world, and now you’re fighting for your life.”

You whimpered into the gag as he smiled at you, running his hands over your skin.

“I mean, not fighting very well, but fighting.”

You tried to kick him as he stepped closer but the ropes made it impossible.

“I think it’s time to open my present, hm?” he grinned. You shook your head but he ignored you, slowly pushing your legs apart and growling a little when he saw your exposed pussy, ripe for the taking. “Look at that, you’re wet,” he laughed. You wrenched your eyes shut, refusing to believe this was happening. “Don’t be embarrassed, that happens a lot. Although I’ll admit, I don’t think any of them were ever this wet before…”

You jumped when his thumb started to rub your clit, the pressure much too intense and unexpected. He laughed at your struggle, and you could feel your walls throbbing in response to the stimulation.

“I know I didn’t need to do all this to get you in bed,” he continued his taunting rant. “I know you wanted me already— don’t think I didn’t notice you makin’ googly eyes at me like a dumb little schoolgirl. If I’d’ve asked you out, I could’ve had you under me after a few drinks… but it’s better this way. You probably would’ve made me wear a condom, would’ve made me be all gentle with ya, some wholesome missionary shit,” he laughed. “I don’t have time for that crap. It’s so much better with your body at my disposal, and you cryin’ those pretty tears.”

The shocks that shot up your spine from the way he was touching you made you feel like your body was betraying you. How could this actually feel good? How was it that the fear burning in your gut was actually adding to your pleasure and not nullifying it?

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he groaned as if he were reading your mind. “I know you love it, little girl, don’t act so innocent. I know you’re not the good girl everybody thinks you are. You’ve been naughty this year, haven’t you?”

Even though logic told you not to play into his twisted game, you felt compelled to shake your head ‘no.’

“Don’t lie,” he warned, “I’ve seen you. I’ve watched you play with this pretty pussy every fucking night.”

You couldn’t watch this any more, you couldn’t look at him while he did this to you. Forcing your eyes shut, you tried to find a place in your mind to run away to. Instead, he slapped you right on your clit and your eyes shot open as you whined.

“Keep looking,” he instructed. “I want you to see it. I want you to know that it’s me. I want you to see what I’m about to put in you.”

He stepped back and hastily discarded his shirt, making quick work of his boots and trousers, too. Then it was just his boxers, and you could see the outline of his erection already. You hoped it wasn’t as big as it looked, but then he grinned as he pulled the fabric down and yep, it was— you tried to squirm away, uselessly.

“Aw, don’t be scared, baby,” he pouted, “I know it’s big, but with how wet you are I bet it’ll fit like a glove. A really, really tight glove…”

He leaned down and pressed his lips right against your ear, rubbing his swollen head through your slick folds as you whined.

“Gloves can tear,” he chuckled. “Gloves can rip.”

Tears stained the ribbon of your gag as you tried to beg him not to, but it was too late— he was pushing forward and spearing you onto him.

“Fuck!” he groaned as he pushed all the way to the hilt, and your eyes rolled back as the stinging, burning pain shot up your spine. “So fuckin’ tight, fuck, can’t believe I waited this long to get my hands on you.”

He pulled the gag down, smiling at you tenderly when you coughed out a cry of pain. “Please,” you sobbed, “please stop…”

“No no, babygirl, I’m not gonna stop. I wanna fill this slutty little cunt with my come.”

Renewed sobs shook your chest as your nails dug into your own palms, each thrust somehow going even deeper than the last, somehow hurting even more.

“Want my come, pretty girl?” he pressed, refusing to let you ignore him. “Want me to shoot my load into this sweet pussy a’yours?”

“No,” you sobbed weakly, shaking your head, “no, no…” you trailed off, chanting it like a mantra as you felt like you might pass out.

“Aw, you’re not on the pill, are you?” he realized with a toothy grin. “Never saw any empty packs in your trash. Are you worried I’ll knock you up?”

“Please, please don’t,” you shivered. There was nothing quite as demeaning as having no recourse but to beg even when you knew it would do nothing. The only thing that came close was the knowledge that your orgasm wasn’t so far off— his cock was slamming right into your spot with every movement, his hips rubbing your swollen clit, and it was impossible to avoid the pleasure that was making your walls tighten around him.

“How could I not?” he countered. “Fuck, you feel so good, how could I not breed this dripping, desperate cunt, hm? There’s no way I’m pulling out now when you’re squeezin’ my dick so good like this.”

“Please,” you repeated, so quiet you couldn’t be sure he heard it at all. You could hardly breathe with his weight on your chest, black static dancing at the edges of your peripheral vision.

“I’ll be honest— I hate kids,” he growled, “never wanted ‘em, but it does sound like a lot of fun to get you pregnant. Would you like that, pretty baby? Bein’ full of my kid? I’d be so nice to watch you get big and know it was all my fault. Think of it like a Christmas gift, from one neighbor to another.”

“Robert, please!” you cried, although it sounded a lot like you were begging him for more as opposed to begging him for mercy. You weren’t sure how that happened, except that you could feel the coil in your gut tightening and tightening and tightening until it finally fucking snapped and you choked on nothing, your walls fluttering as a gush of wetness seeped out between your bodies.

“That’s it,” he groaned, “fuck, what a nasty little skank you are, Jesus… coming so hard from being tied up and abused by your neighbor, who knew you were a total freak?”

You couldn’t say anything, you couldn’t even think as hazy pleasure flooded your brain and you went limp in his oppressive grasp. Exhaustedly, you slumped down and let him use you— all you could do now was hope he would finish soon.

“I mean, I knew,” he laughed, “but damn… you’re somethin’ else.”

He said it with pride in his voice, as your entire body burned with shame. How had you already given in so quickly, accepted your fate and come harder than you ever had before? It sort of made sense that this would be more intense than what you got from getting yourself off at night (and the thought that he’d been watching you made your stomach churn), but why was this so much better than the sweet, loving sex you’d had with your boyfriend way back when, before he’d run out on you? Why was Robert, as disturbed as he was, the best you’d ever had?

“God, you’re so wet, I can fucking smell you,” he grunted through his teeth. “You made such a pretty mess on my cock, babygirl.”

You could hear that he was right, you could feel the wetness that had dripped down to cover both of you— the wet slapping of his balls against your ass was disgusting, yet arousing, and you hated yourself for it.

“Shit, I’m close,” he moaned, “fuck yeah, just like that.”

You weren’t sure what he was referring to until you realized you were arching your back, forcing his cock to hit your overstimulated spot directly. It made jolts of electricity course through your veins, pleasure sizzling just beneath your skin.

“Kiss me,” he instructed, and you were too far gone to disobey as you turned and captured his lips in a kiss, instantly accepting his tongue into your mouth. It was sloppy and forceful and kinda gross and he tasted like Christmas dinner and cigarettes, but it made your walls tighten around him again anyways. Something about his beard against your face made you moan a little, the sound lost into his mouth but unfortunately not unnoticed. “Fuck, I know you love my cock so much,” he purred, pulling back only as much as he needed to to speak— he was so close that his lips brushed yours with every word, those dark eyes staring right into yours until you felt entirely helpless to his gaze.

“Please,” you whimpered, not even sure what you were asking for.

“Best pussy I’ve ever had, you know that?” he praised, grinning as you bit down on your lip. “Yeah, you love being my good girl, you love pleasin’ me, don’tcha?”

“I— I don’t—”

“Just nod your head, dumb baby,” he grunted coldly. After a moment of hesitation, you nodded ever so slightly and he moaned above you.

“Fuck— gonna come,” he informed you breathlessly, “gonna fill up your wet fuckin’ hole, ‘m so close, ah fuck—”

The first pump of his cock painted your insides and you cringed as you tried not to moan at the feeling. His come was hot and thick as it filled you, the faltering thrusts of his hips making your swollen walls flutter weakly. It felt like it would go on forever— his weak groans in your ear, his thick cock pulsing inside you, your breathing quick and fast until it felt like you weren’t getting any air in your lungs at all. It stopped, finally, as he sighed and relaxed a little bit.

“Goddamn,” he breathed as he pulled out of you, making you both wince. Already you felt soreness radiating from your opening, and your face burned as he looked down between your legs. “Look at that, what a perfect little pussy I just ruined. It’s all stretched out and red and covered in my come,” he announced proudly. “There’s a little blood, too, but you’ll be better in no time,” he assured with a smirk. “Red and white— it’s sort of festive, don’t you think?”

You swallowed down the acid threatening to come up your throat— of course he was disturbed, but did he have to be so disgusting?

Again, it was like he read your mind as he grabbed your jaw and forced you to open your mouth, spitting onto your tongue before commanding you to swallow it. Just when you thought you’d reached the limits of his depravity, he found some new way to up the ante. What worried you most, though, was the fact that he’d already come and hadn’t left yet. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t over yet, but you hadn’t accepted it consciously.

“Such a good slut for me,” he praised through his teeth, “I bet I can go again, fuck, you turn me on so much.” Pulling back a bit and gripping his cock at the base, you squirmed a little as you looked at it. “You see this? I’m still hard. You make me feel like a fuckin’ teenager again, I swear.”

“I can’t…” you sighed weakly, your voice sounding all cracked and whiny as it moved through your sore throat. “I can’t take it again…”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed, “I’m gonna give your poor cunt a break… so I can rape this cute little ass.”

“No!” you yelped. “Please! Not there!”

He slapped you quickly before maneuvering two fingers to your other hole, teasing it as he laughed at your pre-emptive wince.

“It’s not gonna be so bad, baby, I’m gonna get you ready for it first, see? I bet you’ll love it, nasty little thing like you.”

The first finger slipped in with a little pop as the tight ring of muscle shifted to accommodate him. You’d never had anything go up that way before, and it was nothing like you could’ve imagined. Hissing in a breath through your teeth, you whimpered as he added a second finger already.

“Just relax,” he instructed. “Not that I don’t love you gripping my fingers with your tight little hole, but it’ll hurt less if you just let it happen.”

You willed your muscles not to tighten even as he twisted his fingers inside you, moving slowly until he was buried all the way to the knuckle and then finally pulling back. The third was a bit more of a challenge as he opened you wider, your fists clenching at the sting of pain. He let his come drip down from your pussy to use as lube, which was undoubtedly the filthiest thing you’d ever experienced. You tried to keep quiet and relax as he told you to, but your fight was renewed slightly as he pulled his fingers out and lined up his cock with your hole.

“Please,” you shivered, “don’t do this…”

“When are you gonna stop fucking fighting it, huh? How stupid are you? You’re tied up on the floor, I already made this pussy mine and you fucking loved it, how much more obvious could it be that I’m gonna do this? You’re fucked. It’s over. Just accept it and I’ll make it good for you.”

“This can’t be good for me,” you hissed through your teeth.

“Well, in that case,” he groaned, interrupting himself as he roughly shoved his cock into your ass. The air was punched from your lungs as pain burned white-hot through your body— it didn’t feel like his fingers had done much to prepare you at all, with the way this hurt. As soon as you had the oxygen needed to do so, you were crying again, loud sobs echoing around your dark, empty living room. “I was gonna be gentle,” he taunted you darkly, “but you had to run that mouth of yours.”

You tried to choke out an apology, but it was useless as he shoved his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck on ‘em, show me what your mouth is good for,” he demanded as you closed your lips and swirled your tongue around his fingers. “Fuck, that’s better. See how good it is when you know your place?”

You couldn’t really process his words, though, as you spent all your energy on trying not to think about how his cock felt in your ass. It was like being full in a completely different way than before, like being opened wider than you knew was possible. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and you hated the moan that spilled out after them.

“Your cunt is getting wet,” he sing-songed mockingly as he leaned back and looked down at it. “You love it up the ass, huh? Dirty bitch.”

You shook your head in denial (even though you could feel that he was right, at least about the first part), but he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him.

“Say it,” he grunted. “Admit it, slut. Admit you love getting fucked up the ass.”

“I…” you whimpered, barely able to get the words out even though you knew you needed to if you wanted to prevent him from hurting you worse. “I love… getting fucked—” you stopped to swallow the lump in your throat— “up the ass.”

He backhanded you, hard, right across the face. You cried and gasped all at once, choking on air from the force of the hit. “WHORE!” he yelled right in your face.

You sobbed uncontrollably as he fucked you with more brutality than you’d known was possible. “Please,” you tried to beg, even if you knew it was useless, but it was totally incomprehensible as you shook with the force of your cries, hissing in breaths through your teeth to try to cope with the pain.

“Thought it would take me a while to come again, but your ass feels so goddamn good— fuck, I’m close already. Want me to fill up that tight little ass?”

You shook your head as you sobbed, shaking violently against the confines of the ropes. Distantly, you heard the chimes of your clock in the other room.

“You hear that?” he whispered. “That means it’s midnight— it’s Christmas.”

He leaned in until his hot breath tickled your ear and neck, making you wish you could turn your head away more than just a few centimeters.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” he purred, just as you felt his cock swell and pulse inside you. Your eyes rolled back as you wondered if you’d ever been so full before.

It was a haze after that as he gently untied you, getting his gun out again and keeping it trained on you as he followed you to the bathroom and forced you to shower. Force was a bit of an overstatement, though, considering your desire to clean him off of you as much as possible. “I’m not gonna tell anyone, Robert,” you tried to calm him down as you shivered under the stream of water that hadn’t quite warmed up yet.

“Yeah, well, just in case,” he insisted as he waved the gun pointed in your direction. “Wash between your legs real good, push my come out.”

“Not gonna matter if you knocked me up like you said,” you reminded him. “A paternity test will be evidence enough.”

“Shut up,” he grimaced. “Can’t prove you didn’t want it, anyway. We both know you did.”

You didn’t respond to that, opting to shower silently instead and wincing every time you tried to clean between your legs. You were going to be sore for days, if not weeks.

“We both know I’m gonna be back for more real soon,” he added darkly. “Too good for just one night.”

#robert pronge x reader #mr. freezy x reader #robert pronge noncon #robert pronge smut #mr freezy smut #mr freezy noncon

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tohruhondaismydaughter · 3 years

Text

Just had some headcanons about Machi pop into my head that I wanted to share with yall. So we know this poor girl struggles with "perfect"/neat things right? Well I was thinking about some healthy coping mechanisms she could develop to replace the whole 'breaking property/living in a dump' thing & here's what I got so far -

1. She always tries to wear odd socks (unless she's invited somewhere nice)

2. Ayame & Mine help her find cool asymmetrical stuff to wear, how to make clashing colours/patterns work for her & teach her how to sew up her old clothes in a more "punk rock" way (after Yuki & Kakeru explain some of her issues with perfection)

3. Tohru gently points out that she dosn't have to tie her laces the same way on both shoes if she dosn't want to

4. Haru & Rin (awkwardly on her part) teach her the power of acessorising (ie. wearing only one earing, putting on an uneven amount of bracelets/rings/necklaces, adding paper clips of different sizes & colours to your clothing & Machi later ends up adding stuff like buttons to her outfits/belongings as well which Haru & Rin are tottally surppotive of despite thier difference in style) & hair/makeup which (thanks to Yuki's advice) they make sure to keep slightly messy (Kimi laughed at it at first until Momiji made her feel bad after he told her that Machi had gone to the bathroon & wiped off all the make up & undid the hair style so Kimi bought her some limited edition Mogeta merch, after asking for Yuki's advice, in apolgey & started referring to Machi's new hair/makeup style as "punk chic" whenever anyone tried to mock Machi about her new look)

5. her & Momiji go on a crazy tie dying adventure (much to Hatori's grumbling & Mayu's amusement)

6. Kormaki gets her into collecting second hand fridge magnets which she then later uses in her work (my version of post-serise Machi is an artist) once the magnetism finally wears off

7. Kagura teaches her how to fix up old plushies (Machi likes creating Mogeta inspired characters) & gives Machi all her old cat ones to work on (Machi descides not to ask why Yuki's cousin was seemingly once obssesd with orange cats because she looks rather embrassed & a little sad when she hands over her collection)

8. Kyo reluctantly teaches her how to cook a few simple dishes (Tohru comes over as well & Yuki insists her food is better but Machi prefers Kyo's simple style of presentation so it's eventually descided that Kyo & her will do the cooking & Tohru & Yuki will deal with the cleaning which Yuki agrees to becuse cleaning is still difficult for Machi but Kyo says it's actually because no matter how much Tohru tried to train him rat boy knows he would never be able to do anything in the kitchen but burn water)

9. Kakeru teaches her the skills of 'excessive badge & sticker decorating' as well as giving eachother fake tattoos (Kisa congratulates Hiro on not saying anything rude to Yuki's girlfriend about her appreance after they first meet her)

10. Cuts her hair short (she delibretly makes it very choppy) once she enters university, where the rules are less strict about your apprence (at least it is if your at art college), & she also regulary wears diffrent coloured wigs (her favourites being a dark red one & a rainbow one) whenever she wants to temporarily change her appearance (beacuse she didn't want to commit to just one look, still wanted to have the ability to quickly "become invisable" again & she heard from Kimi that exsseive hair die-ing could permantly destroy her hair & scalp) it takes her until she's 30 to try out shaving all her hair off (she worried she'd look sick/crazy or not feminine enough) & everyone's really surppotive (though Kimi dose cry a bit, Rin & Haru aren't there when her hair is being shaved & Kyo is a slightly confused as he'd always thought women liked having longer hair then guys) especially Ritsu (who's growing out thier hair again) & they all throw her a big party (Haru & Rin are there for the party bit just not the hair removal bit because it brought up some bad memories) where Kakeru films it & posts it (with Machi's permission) & they give her cut off hair to a charity chosen by all thier followers (despite her disbelief Machi has manged to gain a small group of loyal fans from all her art stuff & her apprences on her loved ones social media), Kakeru also later uploads a video where they help Machi rainbow dye her buzz cut, (she later explores many diffrent types of buzz cut patterns such as flowers & geometric shapes but, at Kimi's insistence, gets them done by a professional)

11. She recycles & D.Y.I's like crazy (Momiji started singing Do Re Mi from The Sound Of Music after she told him that her new dress was actually made from curtains & Yuki cried when she gave him a little rat plushie made from felt, after he came clean to her about the curse)

12. She almost never wears an apron while working on her art because she likes getting messy

13. When her & Yuki go out to eat she loves things like fondoe (both the chocolate & cheese kind), eat N mess & is genreually just a fan of finger food & it becomes a tradition between her & Yuki (& later Mutsuki) to go on a stroll through the park after thier meal & (if it's autumn) look for piles of leaves to jump in (Machi & Yuki also like playing a game where they try to look for the weirdest looking leaf to give eachother & whoever wins gets to pick what they'll eat for dinner that evening & the looser has to cook it, Mutsuki is the "impartial" judge)

14. Machi is amazing at scrapbooking & collarge making (Tohru is more of a dream journal kind of girl)

15. When it's Summer her, Yuki & Mutsuki go down to the beach to see who can find the weirdest looking rocks (the less impressive ones often get used in Machi's art work, the coolest ones Mutsuki gets to keep & any that are too perfect get tossed back in the ocean & Mutsuki likes to score the splashes they make on how big/loud they are)

16. She loves helping Yuki out with gardening for lots of reasons (it's therapeutic & she loves seeing Yuki happy) but she can't deny it's also just fun getting muddy

17. Machi, thanks to Kakeru, devolpes a love of paint ball (but instead of using guns they just throw the paint at eachother like in 10 Things I Hate About You because apparently the gun pellets actually hurt) & will bring it up as an activity idea to her loved ones any chanse she gets

18. Decorates as much of her flat (& later her home with Yuki & Mutsuki) with Mogeta merchandise, random things she collects & her own art work as a big fuck you to her bitch "you have 0 personality/hobbies or talents" of a mother

19. Kisa (happily) & Hiro (reluctantly) introduce Machi to the magic of glitter

20. Machi & Rin eventually become proper friends due to bonding over being abounded by their asshole parents & one of the things they like to do together is work on thier seprete art peices while listening to music (Machi dosn't do any of her "aggressive" art, like plate smashing, around Rin though thanks to Yuki & Haru warnings)

21. When stuff gets to be too much & none of thier other coping strategies are working (like watching Mogeta stoned- which Kisa, Tohru & Momiji do not partake in) Machi & Haru bond by going to rage rooms together to destroy shit & scream (Haru obviously dosn't want Rin around for any of that though so Momiji, Tohru, Kagura or Hana will often take the opportunity to hang out with her, one time Yuki offered & it wasn't bad but it was definitely awkward as they had never really hung out without Haru before & Haru teases her for ages afterwards about her ending up liking Yuki once she actually spent some time with him which, like the precious tsundere she is, Rin will forever deny)

22. (I actually made a whole seprete post about this ages ago but now it seems to have vanished so in case other Machi fans are unable to find it l'll add it here) on the days that it's supposed to snow but dosn't Yuki takes her (& later Mutsuki) skating so she can enjoy scratching up the perfectly smooth ice (they would have gone on double dates with Tohru & Kyo if Tohru wasn't freaked out at the idea of having blades on her shoes & Kyo hadn't claimed to "not trust" ice, he's dislike comes from all the times Kagura had forced him to ice skate with her on the lake near Kazuma's place in the winter when they were kids, so they would instead go with Haru & Momiji - they had thought about going with Haru x Rin & Kakeru x Kormaki once but he proudly revealed that he'd been banned from thier local ice rink years ago for trying "perfectly safe" Olympic level stunts in he's attempt to recreate one of he's favriote episodes of Power Rangers, much to he's fiancee's anger, & Machi reminded Yuki that though Haru & Kakeru were fine with eachother Rin isn't reall able to stand Kakeru for longer than 5 minuites)

#fruits basket #headcanons #machi #machi kuragi #machi headcanons #machi kuragi headcanons #fruits basket headcanons

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obeyme-kaidii-writes · 3 years

Text

Baking Cookies

All Brothers x gn!MC

Format - Scenarios / Headcanons

Words - 2633

Content warnings - tooth-rotting fluff, some implied sexual activity (nothing explicitly stated or described)

Prompt/Inspiration - MC bakes cookies for Mammon, AO3 request

Summary - You spend the day baking cookies and spending some quality time with your favorite demon.

AO3

Scene -

Baking was perhaps one of your favorite hobbies. For special occasions you always whipped something up for your friends and family. And everyone could always count on you to bring oodles of cookies to holiday parties.

Since being in the Devildom, however, you haven’t been able to bake anything and you were sorely missing your hobby. Finally you decided to ask Lucifer about it and he arranged to have some human realm ingredients and kitchen appliances brought in for you.

While you were getting things set up in the kitchen, you suddenly felt some arms wrap around you from behind. When you turned to see who it was you saw….

Lucifer

He pressed a kiss to your temple when you turned to look at him, smiling warmly at you

He had come to check in on things and make sure that everything had arrived in working order

You thank him for his thoughtfulness, pecking him on the cheek in return

He wants to know what you plan on making, so you tell him about your favorite cookie recipe

He gives you another kiss to your head, and then says he has to go finish some RAD related things

But he asks that you bring him a cookie when they are done

And promises to come check on you later if he gets the chance

After spending most of the day in the kitchen, you finally have all your cookies on cooling racks

You realize then that no one else has bothered you all day

The fact that Beel never made an appearance strikes you as especially odd. You had even made extra so you could make sure you still had enough for everyone else if he popped in for a snack.

Hesitant to leave your cookies unattended, you text Lucifer and tell him that you’re done and voice your concerns

He explains he had placed a small spell on the door to keep the scent of your baking contained, so your cookies will be perfectly safe for the time it takes for you to bring him a couple yourself

When you arrive in his study, he’s still working diligently, but pauses briefly when you enter to call you over to his lap

Not wanting to stop working, he asks that you give him a bite

You of course give him what he wants, and assuming he’s trying to embarrass you, make sure to maintain eye contact with him the whole time

This results in a rare blushy Lucifer moment 😍

You take a bite of the same cookie, and he comments that there is some chocolate on your lips (there isn’t)

When you go to wipe it away, he stops your hand and kisses your lips

“Here, let me get that for you.”

After he pulls away, you smirk at him and inform him he has some chocolate on his own mouth

Needless to say, he isn’t getting much work accomplished after that

And it’s entirely possible that the rest of your cookies get discovered (and consumed) while you are...busy

Mammon

He’s very curious about what you’re up to

Wants to know if he can help, he’s kinda excited about the idea of making cookies from scratch

You tell him he can stay, but he has to listen to you exactly

He agrees “Of ‘course I can handle some bakin’. How hard can it be?”

Poor, sweet summer child

To his credit, he tries, he really does

But you finally have to stick him on “fetching detail” because of the utter chaos that results when he does anything else

There is flour everywhere, vanilla extract and other liquids are spilled on the counters, he’s probably dropped a few eggs too

By the time you get the first batch in the oven, you’re pretty worn out. It reminds you of baking with a small child, honestly.

You look up at Mammon, and he doesn’t seem to be having as much fun as you would have thought

He’s noticed the mess all over the kitchen, and starts to feel self conscious about how much trouble he’s caused

But you know the best way to distract him...is by teasing him

Hopping up on the counter next to the mixing bowl, you call him over so that he’s standing between your legs. He wraps his arms around your middle and rests his head on your shoulder

You return his hug, kissing his cheek, and thanking him for the help

“I couldn’t have done it without The Great Mammon.”

You then ask him if he knows what the best part of making cookies is

He lifts his head up to look at you, curious and feeling a tiny bit better

You then scoop some cookie dough out of the bowl with your finger, and act like you’re about to offer it to him, only to put it in your own mouth instead

He blushes. Hard. Which makes you smile

You go to do it again, and this time he catches your wrist and...helps himself to the cookie dough

After that, there is a lot of laughter and giggling that can be heard from the kitchen

In the end, you only manage to make a single batch of cookies, but you wouldn’t have had it work out any other way

Leviathan

He’s resting his head on your shoulder so you can’t see his face, so you give him a quick peck on the top of his head

You honestly hadn’t expected for Levi to join you, you knew he could bake too, but he had said he was busy today with whatever otaku stuff he does when you’re not there

He mumbles something about being bored and lonely, so you ask him if he wants to help and immediately perks up and agrees

You two make a great team, and manage to get things done in record time

You and Levi sit on the ground next to each other, backs against the cabinets, playing mobile games together, while the cookies are baking and cooling

The cookies you had decided to make were sugar cookies, thinking that Levi would get a kick out of decorating them

And you would be right

You’re amazed at the level of details he’s able to draw with royal icing. They’re almost too cute to eat

He’s a mixture of proud and embarrassed as you compliment him on his cookie decorating skills

You take lots of pictures so you can post on Devilgram and brag to everyone about your amazing boyfriend

Asmodeus is probably the first one to see your posts about the cookies and he hurries to the kitchen to see them himself

Cue another round of bragging about your boyfriend and his cookie decorating skills

Poor boy is getting pretty embarrassed now, especially since he can hear the rest of his brothers coming down the hall to see what all the fuss is about

So you gather up a plate of your favorites and make a hasty retreat with Levi to his bedroom, locking the door behind you

You climb into his tub with him, sitting between his legs and reclining onto his chest, with one of his arms around your waist

He puts on some movie that he knows you both enjoy, and you eat your cookies together while relaxing

When the movie is over (and the cookies all eaten), he hugs you close and hides his face in the crook of your neck

He tells you he’s had a lot of fun today, and that it was worth missing his gaming live streams for

And that’s probably like the sweetest damn thing he’s ever said to you 💗

Satan

He immediately asks you if he can help

He loves learning, so baking with you seems like a great way to pick up a new skill

He makes for a really great helper: follows directions to a T, asks plenty of questions, precise in his measurements

He’s also really good at keeping the kitchen neat and orderly

As you prepare to put the last batch of cookies in the oven, you watch Satan start cleaning up and wonder why his room is such a mess if he can be so meticulous in other areas

Once the cookies are in the oven, you begin to help Satan tidy up

Until…

You stumble a bit and Satan catches you

But...you had been carrying a bag of flour

Now...you are not carrying a bag of flour

Satan is covered in a POOF of white and you immediately start apologizing and trying to clean him off (while trying desperately not to laugh because honestly he looks pretty ridiculous)

He picks the bag of flour up off the flour, without saying a word, then looks at you, and then the bag, and then back at you before smirking

You start to get a very bad feeling about this

Before you can even blink, Satan has grabbed a handful of flour and tossed it right in your face

A food fight of epic proportions ensues

It does not stop until Lucifer can be heard stomping down the halls

“MAMMON what have I….”

Lucifer freezes when he enters the kitchen

You and Satan also freeze

And the three of you just stare at each other

“What is going on here…?” Lucifer finally asks

“Baking cookies…?” you reply

“...baking cookies…”

Lucifer then turns and leaves as quickly as he came. He does not have the time to deal with this. And it’s you who is at fault here. He’s not even sure what he’s supposed to do. Yell? Hang you from the rafters? He decides that’s a problem for….later.

You and Satan burst out laughing as soon as Lucifer is gone

A few sweet kisses are exchanged before you decide to actually clean up

Once the cookies are out of the oven and cooling, Satan invites you to his room for a much needed shower

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

And you are very much comfortable with it

Asmodeus

He’s come to check on you and see what all your excitement from earlier had been about

You explain about the cookie recipe you were going to be working on and ask if he wants to join you

He’s more than happy to help you, and was actually hoping you’d ask

He then presents you with a set of matching aprons to wear while you work, one for him and one for you

Asmo is a pretty good helper overall, but he’s very playful too

Lots of chocolate flavored kisses, cookie dough sampling, and pats on the ass

(You’ll probably have flour handprints on your ass, make sure to give him a matching set though)

It takes a little bit longer than normal for you to finish all you had planned, but you don’t mind. You really enjoyed having Asmo there to keep you company

While you start cleaning up, Asmo says he’s going to draw a bath for you so you can get cleaned off and relax

You make sure to grab a small plate of cookies to take with you, sorting the rest into pre-portioned and labeled boxes for the others to help themselves to

When you’re done, you join him in his room and are greeted by the most divine, relaxing scent you’ve ever experienced

Asmo emerges from the bathroom, wrapped in a robe and quickly helps you undress

The two of you slip into the tub together, with you sitting between his legs as he massages your shoulders, and your scalp while he washes your hair

You didn’t realize how tense your muscles had been from hunching over the kitchen counters all day, but he makes quick work of all the knots and kinks and soon you’re feeling much better

You then swap positions so you can pamper your favorite demon as well, he of course can’t resist making all sorts of exaggerated lewd sounds while you wash his hair, which leaves you giggling/chuckling

When you’re done, he leans back against you and you drape your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, just holding him close and enjoying the soothing warmth of the water

After the bath, the two of you curl up together in his bed, taking turns feeding each other the cookies you had set aside, smiling and flirting, exchanging lots of sweet kisses

The Attic Club Sandwich (Beelzebub / Belphegor)

It’s Belphie who has his arms wrapped around you, resting his chin on your shoulder

Since Beel had sports practice today, you decided it would be the perfect opportunity to bake him some cookies as a surprise

Belphie is there to...supervise

He spends most of your baking spree clinging to you or hanging off you in some form

But he does help out occasionally when you ask him to hand you things or put stuff in the oven

You catch him sneaking chunks of cookie dough, “for quality control purposes” he says

You let it go since you’ve already planned on baking a rather large quantity to make sure Beel would get enough to satisfy himself

With the last of the cookies in the oven, you start to clean up and Belphie hoists himself on top of the counter next to the mixing bowl, helping himself to any leftover remnants of cookie dough he can scrape off

Insists he’s helping by “cleaning the dishes”

As you wait for the final batch to cool, you spend some time just cuddling your beloved bratty demon, standing in between his legs while he buries his face in the crook of your neck and holds you close

Beel arrives home around then and heads straight for the kitchen to find out what smells so good

His face lights up when he sees you and Belphie

You see Beel and greet him with a smile, walking over to give him a sample cookie

He lets you feed it to him, blushing like the adorable teddy bear he is

Satisfied that your cookies have been Beel Approved™️, you send Beel away to shower, exchanging a quick peck before he goes, and letting him know y’all will be waiting in the bedroom with the rest of the cookies when he’s done

Happy boi hurries off to take the quickest shower of his life, and you and Belphie head to the twins room

Belphie decides he can be a bit helpful and agrees to carry the rather large box of cookies for you

Which leaves your hands free to loop through his arm and walk with him

While you wait for Beel, you sit in Belphie’s bed and he snuggles up against you, his head resting on your lap and his arms wrapped around your legs

Says he doesn’t need any cookies since he ate enough while helping(?) you

He falls asleep almost instantly, baking(?) cookies is a lot of work for him

It doesn’t take long for Beel to finish washing up and join you on the bed, wearing some comfy lounge pants, wrapping his arm around your shoulders

He lets you feed him cookies for awhile, exchanging lots of sweet chocolate chip flavored kisses in between

He’s so happy and thankful that you thought of him today and prepared something special just for him, you make sure to tell him Belphie helped too and his smile gets even broader

When you start to feel tired, you rest your head on his shoulder and he polishes off the rest of the cookies on his own

Beel then presses a kiss to the top of your head, before snuggling closer to you, hugging you tight

Feeling warm, relaxed, and secure, you drift off to sleep between your two favorite demons

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barnxsromanxff · 3 years

Text

Make a wish | Steve Rogers x reader

30 day fluff writing prompt challenge

Do not repost any of my writes without credit to me

Day 3: Birthday

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: It’s steve’s birthday and you try to treat him like royalty. Things don’t go according to plan but he appreciates it none the less.

Warnings: mostly fluff, mention of lingerie, kissing, soft steve, slight cursing

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, i’m literally in class right now after summer finals typing this out of my phone. It made me smile so wide, thank u all for the support and i hope u enjoy day 3 of this challenge. make sure to check out @deity-prompts page for more ideas and challenges! enjoy <3

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

Your boyfriend is turning 103, something you never thought you would say to yourself. You always like to tease him, saying he must have a thing for girls 80 years younger than him. However today you would hold your teasing back slightly, it had to be perfect. The plan had been in motion for a week, you even got help from bucky to distract him.

“I’m picking Steve up now so you can decorate and make the cake, how long”

You whispered your response back in the phone hoping Steve’s super hearing couldn’t hear your scheme.

“Keep him for atleast an hour, I need to set some stuff up.”

Bucky grumbled but agreed, hearing a car honk in the front. The line hung up and you smiled knowing buck loved seeing Steve even if he doesn’t want to admit it to you.

“Steve bucks here to take you out for some drinks, be safe honey”

You kissed his cheek and sent him on his way before he could argue. The door shut and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, it’s game time now. You ran up to your closet and reached up to the pile of decorations you had hiding behind some jackets. You dumped the decor on your bed and started putting your plan in motion.

Finally about 40 minutes later it was complete, your old timey decor was set all across your livingroom and in your bedroom. You had an old radio on the fireplace mantle that played sweet old songs, you felt like you had stepped back in time.

“Oh god the cake.”

A string of curses fell from your mouth as you scurried to the kitchen you took out the ingredients and whisked faster than you ever had in your life. You shoved it in the oven and ran to get changed. Your dress was a light blue color, the waist was cinched and tight and the skirt flared out. You spun in the mirror and mouthed the word perfect to yourself and put on the blue heals, then hobbled over to the bathroom to fix your hair a little and put on some lipstick. The fire red color was absolutely beautiful, it complemented your complexion and make your teeth look whiter than pearls. Steve was gonna love it. You walked as fast as you could and took out the steaming cake, and put it in the fridge to cool. After a few minutes you took it out hoping it wasn’t too warm, you poured on the icing and trued your best to make it look presentable.

“Love, what is all this?”

Steve was here and buck didn’t even warn you, you noted that you weren’t gonna trust his time management skills anymore. You pumped red icing on the sides of the cake hoping he wouldn’t notice the random smears and globs of icing. You cursed as you noticed a red stain on the very front of your dress, you tried to wipe it to the best of your ability and grabbed your apron and put it on. Maybe it would look more realistic, since it was the 1940s and you would’ve been a house wife. Gross.

“Sit down Stevie i’ll be out in a minute.”

Peaking your head out you saw the man of your dreams, he twiddled his thumbs as he looked around the room. His eyes widened as you walked out, mouth agape. Your eyes twinkled and you spun around with your arms out, his smile matched yours and he pulled you into a bear hug.

“All this for me? And y/n you look so beautiful, I love it so much.”

His eyes scanned your dress and kissed your cheek sweetly, then he looked around the room. He walked towards the radio and turned on some music, a sweet melody started to play and it seemed like he turned into a little boy again.

“I know this song! My mama would play it all the time.”

You nodded and motioned for him to come closer, his hand reached for yours and kissed each knuckle. His hand rested on the small of your back and you leaned your head on his chest.

“I love you so much, sweetheart you have no idea.”

Your eyes watered and you looked up at him, a tear ran down his cheek and you wiped it then caressed his soft cheek.

“I love you too, i mean i have to treat my love good. 103 is special.”

His laugh echoed off the walls, with a slight roll of eyes he kissed your cheek.

“Some things aren’t like they were back then, missed a little.”

You scoffed and ran your hands up his shoulders into the hair on the nape of his neck. He shuttered and looked to you.

“How so?”

“Well back then I didn’t have my favorite girl.”

He kissed your forehead and smiled, the sweet melody played through the whole house. Dripping into every room and making the house sweeten up a little, your dress bounced as you both swayed to the melodic music.

“Oh! The cake, I forgot the cake.”

You wobbled into the kitchen like a penguin and grabbed the plate, carefully you carried it. You must not have cleaned up as well as you thought because your heel caught onto a cord and you fell forwards. The cake splattered on the ground and you both just stared at it.

“Happy birthday...”

Steve chuckled slightly and helped you up, noticing the white and red icing all over your apron. He untied the apron and you cringed as he slid it off

“Much bet- You have a glob of red icing on your dress honey.”

You looked down and nodded, him realizing why you had the apron on in the first place. He laughed and kissed you.

“I’m sorry Steve, I really tried to give you a good birthday this year. You deserve it.”

He hushed your words and looked back at the cake, then you again.

“Y/n this all is so amazing, sure the cake is now on the ground but still look at all this! Just you being here with me makes it heaven.”

His sweet talking never gets old, he wiped your dress off a little and leaned in for a kiss. His hands pressed against your waist lightly and his kiss was gentle.

You both cleaned up the mess and enjoyed a spoon of cake that hadn’t touched the floor. Steve had a perfect birthday and you were so happy you could make him smile as wide as he did.

“Now let’s get you out of that dress.”

His hand spanked your butt lightly and you blushed.

“I think you’ll like the outfit underneath.

This time it was Steve’s turn to blush as you grabbed his hand and led him into the bedroom to continue with the birthday presents.

#marvel smut #marvel comics #marvel #steve rogers #steven grant rogers #birthday #happy birthday #kissing #x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #lovers #smutty #cakesdecor #1940s actress #1940s vintage #barnxsromanxff

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expectingtofly · 3 years

Text

Not-So-Easy-Bake Oven, 2k

Established Dean/Cas, Toddler Jack, Fluff without Plot

day 3 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: baking

“Petzel, petzel, petzel!” Jack chanted, banging a tiny plastic whisk on the table. He wore a kid's apron decorated with bumblebees, dotted black lines twisting and curving to show the bees' crisscrossing flights.

“Alright, buddy, give me a sec,” Dean said, pouring a bag of dry pretzel mix into a bowl. Charlie had bought Jack an Easy-Bake Oven for his fourth birthday, and this was their first time using it and its soft pretzel making kit—much to Jack’s excitement.

Cas came over from the sink with the kit’s measuring cup filled with water. “Wanna pour?” he asked Jack. He steadied Jack’s hand as he took the cup and poured it into the bowl. “Now it’s time to mix.”

He lifted Jack up to kneel on the table, and, gripping his whisk in one fist, Jack began stirring the mix and water together—if jabbing the bowl could be called stirring.

Dean opened the oven, checking to see if it was working. Already pretty warm for a squat bright pink appliance. “Woulda killed for something like this when I was younger.” He looked at the inside of his wrist. “Used to have a pretty nasty scar from when I tried making Sam brownies in some janky motel oven.”

“You should’ve never been left unattended in the kitchen at such a young age,” Cas griped, grabbing the bowl before it careened over the table's edge from Jack’s vigorous stirring. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. If I ever meet John…”

Dean grinned. “He’s lucky he never met you.”

“Exactly.”

"Done," Jack announced, dropping the whisk. Dean raised an eyebrow at the bowl where the mix was only half-combined, dry powder still clinging to the bowl.

"Looks good, kid," he told him, and picked up the flimsy pink whisk to finish stirring.

Jack protested, though, grabbing his hand. "Done!"

"It just needs a little more," Dean told him. "Look, it's not totally mixed."

"Hey, Jack," Cas said. "Help me pick out stuff to put in our pretzels." Successfully distracted, Jack clambered over to him and Cas carried him to the pantry.

Dean finished stirring the mix quickly. "Good choice," he heard Cas say and looked over to see him grabbing a bottle of soy sauce. Oh boy.

The oven chimed, announcing it was pre-heated, and Dean stared at the lumpy excuse for dough in the bowl. Maybe it’d look more appetizing when cooked.

"Chocolate chips, pepper, raisins, oregano," Cas listed, coming over and setting various items down on the table.

"Uhh." Dean stared at the box of corn flakes Jack carried over to the table, nearly as big as his torso. He couldn't figure out which items were Cas’ choice and which were Jack's suggestions. "Not really sure all this goes together."

"You never know," Cas said, picking Jack up and standing him on a chair.

He might not've known for sure, but he was pretty sure he could guess. "Alright, well." He dumped the dough onto the table and divided it into small sections. "Time to experiment, I guess."

Cas sprinkled flour on the table so they could roll out the dough, but before he could even close the bag, Jack smacked his hand down on the table, sending a cloud of flour into the air.

Cas coughed, waving flour away from his face and Jack cackled, one palm dusted white. Dean laughed at Cas, until Jack leaned over and swiped at his t-shirt.

"Dude, seriously?" Dean asked him, brushing his shirt off. Jack only laughed, clapping his hands to send more flour floating in the air. "How ‘bout you put the flour to good use?" Placing a small ball of dough in front of Jack, he propped up the box that the mix had come in and studied the instructions for forming a pretzel shape.

"So first you roll the dough out into a rope," he said, following along with the pictures. "Then you form it into a u-shape." He glanced at Jack to see if he was paying any attention, but Jack seemed more interested in rolling the dough around the table and through the flour. Then he yelped, staring at his hands in bewilderment.

"I'm messy," he said, staring at the dough sticking to his fingers. He held them up to Cas, who told him.

"You have to get your hands dirty." Taking one of the balls of dough, he poured some chocolate chips on it and began rolling them into the dough. "Look at Daddy."

Jack looked over at Dean, just as his dough rope tore in two. "Dammit." He balled the dough back together. “Let’s try that again.”

Before he could try, though, Jack started clamoring for the corn flakes, so Dean set a handful of the cereal on the table. "I think this is gonna mess up the baking times," he said, skimming the back of the box. "Recipe doesn't say anything about adding extra shit."

"This is a child's baking oven. It's supposed to foster fun and creativity." Cas nodded at the box.

Dean turned the box around. Fun for the whole family! it read along with a photo of perfectly formed pretzels. At the bottom, it also read, "Ages 8 and up." Ah. So maybe a little advanced for a four year old.

Corn flakes went flying and Dean dodged one shooting towards his eye. Oblivious, Jack continued crushing the cereal with the flat of his hand, a gleeful smile on his face.

"Yup, uh, good enough," Dean said quickly, grabbing Jack's hands.

"No!" Jack yelled, trying to get out of his grip.

"Take the oregano," Dean said quickly, hoping for a distraction. It worked, except now he had to hand over the container and watch Jack sprinkle the herb all over the near vicinity. Maybe he could pass off clean-up duty to Cas, who was making his own mess, adding food dye to his dough to make a swirl of purple and pink.

He helped Jack combine the corn flakes and oregano into the dough, then roll it out into a rope. Cupping Jack's hands, he guided him through curving the rope of dough into a U-shape, crossing the two ends twice, then pulling them over to make a rough pretzel shape.

“Hey, not too bad.” Pulling out his phone, he took a photo. "Smile for Charlie, Jack."

Jack held up the pretzel, effectively warping the shape, and grinned at the camera. "I make one for Auntie," he declared when Dean lowered the phone, and grabbed more dough to form his own pretzel.

“How did you do that?” Cas asked, studying the box. Going to him, Dean did the same thing he’d did with Jack, standing behind him and holding his hands to help him form a pretzel shape. Cas' fingers were dusted with flour, and Dean got a bit distracted by the way Cas leaned back against him, letting him guide him into creating a pretty decent pretzel. Not as perfect as the ones on the box, but close enough.

“I think I’ve got it,” Cas said, grabbing more dough and forming another pretzel in two easy swoops. Okay, way better than the one before.

“Did you just trick me into helping you?” Dean asked, pulling away from him slightly.

Cas tilted his head into him. “Mhm.”

Dean rolled his eyes but kissed his neck anyway.

Several tries and several more mishaps later, and they had a few semi-recognizable pretzels. Some they dipped into a cinnamon sugar glaze that came with the kit, others they placed as is into small, pink, round dishes.

“They go in here and cook for ten minutes,” Cas instructed, helping Jack push the dishes inside the oven. Jack peered into the opening, then back at Cas and Dean.

“Done now?”

“Gonna be a long ten minutes,” Dean said, setting the timer.

They tried to clean up as the pretzels cooked, though Jack was covered in so much flour, food dye, and dough that he left a trail wherever he moved. And he would not stop moving. As Dean tried to wipe down the table, Jack ran loops around the island, and when Cas tried sweeping, Jack decided to start spinning around in the middle of the kitchen until he fell over. Then do it all over again.

“If he has this much energy now, what the hell’s he gonna be like when you give him a chocolate chip pretzel?” Dean asked Cas, putting the oregano and soy sauce back. He had no idea which pretzel Cas had slipped the sauce into and was not eager to find out.

“That may have been an oversight on my part,” Cas admitted. The oven beeped and Jack rushed to the table.

“Petzel!” he began chanting again.

"Don't touch," Dean warned, using a tool from the kit to pull the dishes out of the oven and place them on the table.

“Which one do you want to try first?” Cas asked Jack, who took a moment to study the pretzels before pointing to the purple and pink one—or what was once those colors but had now taken on a more bloody appearance.

"It's pretty," he said.

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed, transferring the pretzels onto a plate. Dean turned off the oven, then startled when Jack began crying.

“Hot!” Jack cried, pointing at the dish Dean had told him not to touch. In hindsight, he should’ve realized the temptation would’ve been too much to resist.

“Let me see,” Cas said, taking Jack’s hand.

“No, it hurt,” Jack cried, trying to pull his hand away.

“Alright, alright.” Scooping Jack up, Dean carried him over to the sink and turned on the cold water. When he held Jack’s hand under the stream, Jack squirmed, trying to get away.

“Cold!” he yelled.

“I’m trying to help, dude,” Dean told him. “This’ll make it feel better.” More startled than hurt, it seemed, Jack calmed down after a few seconds. Turning off the water, Dean studied his finger. Not even a blister, but he nodded at Cas. “Think Dada can help?”

Jack nodded and held out his finger to Cas. "Booboo.” Cas took his tiny hand and kissed his finger.

“Are you too injured to eat a pretzel?” he asked.

“No!” Jack yelled, suddenly all energy again, squirming out of Dean’s grasp. Dean set him down and he ran to the table, clambering on a chair to grab the purple/pink monstrosity of a pretzel.

“Try one,” Cas told Dean, joining Jack and pushing over the plate.

Dean grimaced, but chose the cinnamon sugar and corn flake one. Why that was even a combination was beyond him. Bracing himself, he took a bite. Okay. Dry. Pretty bland. Crunchy which was just wrong, but not horrible—wait. He took that back. Oregano and cinnamon sugar did not go well together.

"Um. Well.” He choked down the rest of the bite and set the pretzel back on the plate. “These are, uh..."

"Not good," Cas finished. He squinted at his own pretzel, then took another hesitant bite. Instantly, his face screwed up, and he shook his head, dropping the pretzel onto the plate. “It seems you were right. Soy sauce, pepper, and raisins do not mix."

“Who would’ve thought?” Dean deadpanned. Jack munched happily on his pretzel, cinnamon sugar covering his chubby cheeks. “Someone’s enjoying them, at least.”

“For Charlie,” Jack announced, pointing at one of the pretzels on the plate.

“She’ll love a day-old pretzel,” Dean told him.

“Yes, she will,” Cas said, giving Dean a look. He pushed Jack’s hair back from his face. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Jack abandoned the colorful pretzel for the chocolate chip one, then the corn flake one. True to his word, he left one untouched on the plate for Charlie. She would get a kick out of it when she visited. I knew he'd love it!! she'd responded to the photo Dean had sent her of Jack holding up a pretzel.

“This was fun,” Cas said, a smile on his face, watching Jack.

“Yeah.” Dean looked over at the mess of bowls and dishes in the sink and back at the flour streaked table. Making a fist over his open palm, he said, “Loser has to clean.”

Cas straightened, a competitive gleam in his eye. “Agreed.”

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.” Cas threw scissors and Dean threw paper.

“Dammit,” he exclaimed. “You always do rock.”

Cas grinned. “And so I conditioned you to think I’d do it now.”

“Christ, when’d you get so conniving?” He got up and asked Jack, “You wanna help your old man clean?”

“No, tank you,” Jack replied.

“‘Least he was polite,” Cas said.

“Good luck getting him down for a nap later.”

“Why’s that my job now?”

“Sorry,” Dean turned on the water to start scrubbing the bowls. “Can’t hear you over all the cleaning I’m doing.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Dean grinned when Jack offered him a bite of his pretzel and Cas had to act like he enjoyed it. Turning back to the sink, he grabbed the sponge. This was a lot of fun.

#shameless fluff #baby jack #destiel fic #spncreatorsdaily #dean/cas #fluff without plot #domestic deancas #dadstiel #inspired by trixie mattel's easy bake oven series on youtube #and a job i had a few years ago working in a pretzel truck #good times #j&kcreatorfest #expectingtofly writes

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

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Dreams, Chapter 19

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 19

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4274

Summary: Life settles into routine as summer comes in Wisconsin.

Warnings: FLUFF, swearing, some smut

You’d never been so aware of the date after that, somehow feeling like you’d reset your circadian rhythm to know precisely how long two weeks was. Mercifully on the part of the universe, Dean had been right about the lack of reset function as long as you stayed within the same mind; once, just to try, you had entered Sam’s dream and found that Sam Barbie and Sam Mike hadn’t met Dean yet.

At Dean’s request Sam put a huge amount of effort toward ‘being normal,’ integrating into the community in a more purposeful way. You became friendly with a couple cheerful hairdressers from the salon in the next town over when they started coming to the bar for after work drinks and Sam began getting invited to the poker games Steve hosted. One of your favorite of these new habits was going to the farmer’s market dutifully every week. It reminded you every time of how simple this new life was, where you had spare mental capacity to think about whether you wanted nectarines or peaches because there was no terror dangling just overhead. It also helped distract you from all-consuming thoughts of seeing Dean on alternate Sunday nights, the way your body felt like it vibrated with anticipation for the few days before.

The two of you had been going for months by the first market in July, long enough to know all the first names of the regular vendors and greet them as you went. You were feeling somehow even more acutely anxious-excited at the upcoming Sunday, Dean having told you both last time that he had a surprise planned. It encouraged you to give more of a concerted effort to linger at every single booth, extend every single moment of killed time you could get from the outing. Sam let you lead the way, ring and pinky finger loosely linked into yours as you walked up and down the aisles of tents and tables in the overgrown gravel parking lot. He had a canvas bag half-filled with beets, green beans, some local honey, and a small carton of apricots. You paused to lean into his chest, waiting for Sam to bend down and kiss you in front of a table of essential oils decorated with macrame. The next one caught your eye, some hand-hewn jewelry, and you pulled him gently along.

“What do you think?” you asked, holding up some earrings clearly too gaudy to match your style with an exaggeratedly fashionable face.

“I think those really capture your essence, yeah,” Sam smiled.

“Or maybe this?” You slipped your hand into a heavy bangle absolutely covered in turquoise that felt like wearing an ankle weight.

He hitched the bag up on his shoulder and watched the show you put on for him, sweeping some hair back from your neck to let you see a set of earrings in the tiny mirror on the table. His gaze flicked over the wares and he gingerly picked up a small gold band from a tray. It was probably the most understated piece on the table, and definitely the one most likely to fit with the no-nonsense jewelry you tended to wear—the things you were drawn to being more sentimental reminders than ostentatious presentation, intended to be put on once and never taken off.

“I think this one looks the most like you,” Sam hummed, offering it up for you to try on. The band was medium-thick with rounded comfort edges and when you slipped it on it fit perfectly, just barely tight enough to feel exactly secure on your finger. He was right; it looked good on your hand like you had re-found an old piece that you’d lost, and you considered it for a second before you realized Sam was talking to the woman behind the table as she finished a transaction with a trio of teenaged girls getting matching woven bracelets.

“That one’s part of a set,” she cooed over to him, her hands resting in a homemade apron covered in embroidered flowers. “They should really go to the same home.”

You were impressed at Sam’s ability to keep himself from rolling his eyes at that kind of faux sentimental bullshit, but she had already turned her back to you, rifling in another box under the plastic table. She turned around with a larger copy of the ring and darted out, grabbing Sam’s hand quickly enough that he almost stumbled forward as she started to slip it onto his finger.

“Oh, I don’t really wear jewelr—” he started helplessly.

“See? Meant to be, it fits perfectly.” She clasped her hands in front of her chin excitedly, beaming over the table at you and Sam. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the expression on his face as he tried inconspicuously to get the ring off.

“Um—wow, that’s really on there—how much for that one?” Sam asked, awkwardly pointing to the ring on your finger with his pinky as he kept working to try to get his off.

“$50 for the both of them.”

“Even the one has gotta be more than that,” he insisted, based on the displayed prices of the gaudy jewelry you’d played around with.

“I’d feel better knowing they were being appreciated together than I would with the money.”

You looked up at Sam with the kind of melting cotton candy look you felt like had been plastered to your face for weeks, soft and gooey and something you would’ve made fun of a stranger for. He abandoned trying to get the ring off and tongued a molar before pulling out his wallet and dropping 5 $20 bills on the table, pushing them across with the customer service smile he used at the bar. “Thank you, they’re, uh, they’re beautiful.”

She only unclasped her hands to stuff the bills in the apron, mouthing a “thank you” at the extra money and winking at Sam as the two of you walked away from the booth.

“Should we get you a big chain? Or I could pierce your ears with an ice cube and an apple back at the cabin,” you teased, getting used to the way the ring felt on your hand.

Sam couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes over a smirk. “I really can’t get it off.”

“I think maybe you just wanted to match me.”

He stopped walking and you spun around to face him, gazing up into his hazel eyes. “Matching you isn’t so bad.”

“Oh yeah?” You watched as a slow smirk spread across his face and he looked down at his feet between you. “Thank you, by the way. I really love it.”

“Just think you, um, deserve nice things.” A little color rose in his cheeks, and there was something so unbelievably sweet about it, being shy with you of all people. You had to press up to your tiptoes and pull Sam’s neck down to kiss him, but it was perfect, the light northern chill that sometimes drifted through the air even in July reminding you of your first kiss on that sledding hill except now it was your hand on Sam’s neck, blood seeping warm and loose through every capillary rather than the cold throb of anxiety you’d had then. With his lips on yours, delicate metal on your finger, and the earthy smell of the fresh produce in the air, you tried to commit to memory how unequivocally good the moment was, how completely outside the realm of possibility this would’ve seemed a year ago. Sam’s hand slipped to your lower back and pressed you to him. “Wanna get out of here?” he murmured into your ear, and it was all you could do not to jump him right there as you wound your fingers in his and wove through the booths to get back to the Impala.

“Baby—you’ve gotta—fuck, I’m driving,” Sam laugh-moaned, shifting his hips just a little up into the hand you danced along the fly of his jeans.

You leaned across the bench seat and licked the faintest trail up his jugular vein. “Then pull over.”

His eyes closed deeply for a beat and hard swallow as he took a deep breath and took a right turn into what was likely a private driveway. It was a calculated move; probably not visible from the rural highway but if the people living here—the place sure to be occupied on a July weekend even if it wasn’t year-round—decided to leave they’d catch an eyeful of graphic roadblock. Knowing he was willing to take the risk made your heart race even faster, and Sam had barely thrown the car into park before he was on top of you, hand in your hair and tugging back roughly to bite-suck at your neck so hard and delicious you gasped before even realizing.

He grinned into your skin as he kissed you. “Gonna—tease me—like—that? After looking so good—being so sweet—all morning?” You slid your hands in his hair and pulled back, crashing into his mouth and tasting the honey he’d sampled with you at the farmer’s market. You hooked your leg around his hips and rolled up into him, almost salivating at the firm length of him against you and the friction of the denim. He pressed you flat to the bench seat and started working the buttons of your shirt, so lightning-fast he ripped one of the last ones clean off, sending it skittering across the dashboard as it flew. “Sorry,” he smiled as you bit his lip, not looking very sorry at all.

When your top was finally open Sam tugged at your bra, bypassing the clasp altogether in favor of exposing your nipples above it, somehow grazing his teeth and breathing cool air over them at once to send goosebumps flushing all over your body. You tried to undo the buttons of his shirt somewhat unsuccessfully for a moment before Sam leaned back and yanked at the back of his collar, tossing it in the backseat without looking as you flicked open his belt buckle and jeans. You grabbed either side of the open belt and tugged, making Sam’s chest press against yours and giggling into his lips at his tiny “oof,” when he fell forward onto the seat, throwing his arm out to avoid landing on you with his full weight.

With his torso against yours, he kissed you like he was gorging himself on candy; hungry and playful as you pushed and pulled against each other until you guided his cock out of his boxers and circled the tip with your thumb. Sam whimpered softly, just once and softly enough you might’ve thought it was a sharp inhale, but the broken concentration was enough for you to catch him off guard and shove him back on the seat across from you. He stretched back against the leather and door, pleasantly surprised behind widened pupils as you quickly got out of your shirt/bra tangle and kicked off your boots. It could’ve been some kind of pseudo-pornographic ad, Sam with tousled hair and undone jeans up against the door of the Impala, taut skin and muscles of his abs on full display as his arms spanned an impossible amount of the windowsill and seatback. If you’d had the self-restraint, you might’ve taken an extra second to soak it in, but as it was you pounced on him the moment the fabric of your clothes left your hands, slipping your fingers under his waistband enough to expose his cock and immediately sliding it into your mouth, hands still working to get him further out of his jeans.

Anyone else making the sound he did would never have had the same effect, but the gravelly moan your tongue forced out of him dissolved you into jello and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. Rhythmically working the spit-slick between your mouth and hands, you dragged your head up to look Sam in the eyes, heavy tip of him weighing down your bottom lip as you spoke. “Hold my hair?”

Sam’s eyes went fuzzy and dark as his eyebrows raised into a dazed smile, gathering your hair in a huge palm and making that amazing noise again as you slid all the way down him, nose grazing the dark hair on Sam’s abdomen. After a few minutes his hips bucked a little under you, Sam beginning to writhe on the leather. “Fuck, that feels so goo—hold on, wait,” Sam stammered with sex-frayed vocal cords, using your hair to tug you to his mouth and suck your tongue. The sensation stunned you for a moment but you could’ve stayed there forever, held up in his palm and flayed open for Sam to take.

He trailed down your jaw and pulled firm when you tried to turn into his kiss. “Out of your jeans. Now.” You could feel the smirk against you and immediately started shimmying them off, loving this new edge to Sam, able to fully appreciate the grit knowing how soft he would be if you showed even the slightest hesitation. When you’d gotten the denim about halfway down your thighs he put a strong hand on your hip and flipped you over in the seat, your cheek flush against the glass of the window where he draped over your back like a predator. “Don’t. Move.”

The shudder was involuntary but it was covered by Sam practically ripping the jeans the rest of the way off your legs and subsequent hoisting your hips into the air as he shifted your knees up to the leather, your chest pressed against the door of the Impala as you looked back at him. You didn’t have any warning when Sam slipped his tongue inside you, shooting your arm out to grab for anything to stabilize yourself and ending up with a handful of seatbelt. Your calf curled up as he worked those sensitive nerves, swirling a thumb into your clit as he went. Sam locked the freed ankle with an iron grip. “I said don’t move.”

You whimpered and whispered dirty nothings you wouldn’t have been able to remember with a gun to your head until he smacked your ass hard enough you knew there’d be a red facsimile of his hand on you, and then you completely fell apart, shuddering and melting into the door. Sam crawled up behind you, chest flush to your back, and bit your earlobe. “I. Said. Don’t. Move.” You could hear the playful challenge in it and that made you even more crazy for him, wiggling under his weight a little involuntarily. He didn’t make you wait too long, pushing into you until his thighs pressed to yours, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm forward.

“Holy shit, Sam,” you breathed. You could feel your muscles flex and relax experimentally around him.

His tongue flicked around your ear as he pounded into you. “You’re so fucking hot, baby—can’t believe you’re my girl. Are you my girl?”

The sounds you made were vaguely affirmative but to be honest, Sam’s rocking into you was pretty effectively scrubbing your mind clean of coherent thought.

“Tell me. Say my name,” Sam murmured, voice low with sin against your spine.

“I’m your girl, Sam—your girl, I’m your girl Sam, I—holy shit—” you moaned as he picked up the pace and circled a sucked-wet finger around your clit and then you hit that sweet, sticky spasm, hand splaying out wide on the window. Sam covered it with his, interlacing long fingers into yours and something about the way the metal of the two new rings clinked against each other was so tender even as you were being rammed into the door. A couple moments later he drew back with a tense groan, dressing your lower back with hot spurts of himself while his breath started to return with ragged shudders.

“Jesus,” he sighed as he eased off of you, suddenly gentle again. “Oh—uh, here, sorry.” Sam extended a veined arm over the front seat to snatch his shirt from where it had landed and gently wiped off your back. You let the cool glass settle your racing heartbeat for a beat before sliding back to the seat and the small pile of clothes Sam had retrieved for you. It made you smirk a little to watch Sam’s internal struggle over what to do with the dirty shirt, deciding to toss it on the floor before refastening his belt shirtless like he was in some Country Hotties calendar—Mr. July indeed.

You opted not to tie your boots as you’d only be walking from the car to the door and looked over at Sam once your feet were inside the loose laces. He opened and closed his mouth but couldn’t come up with any words, smoothing his hair nervously back into place and chuckling against a bitten lip.

“Yeah, I agree,” you giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek before lacing your fingers together. “Do you want anything specific for dinner? We have a bunch of chickpeas, I thought maybe we could try making our own falafel.”

He gazed back at you for a reverent second before turning the key in the Impala’s ignition. “I love you,” he smiled, throwing an arm over the back of your seat to reverse out of the woods.

Tracing the angles of his face in the sunlight as he drove, you picked your joined hands up to kiss his knuckles. “I love you too.”

After a few minutes of endorphin-filled silence, Sam turned to you. “So do you know what this surprise is Dean has planned for tomorrow night? I figured he’d have to tell you what it was going to be if you’re the one whose head it’ll be in.”

“No clue. I thought at first maybe it was like, the Grand Canyon or something but ran into the same issue. Unless Cas’s taught him some new trick, he’s only ever been able to pull up places or things I already know—pick my brain for it, or whatever.”

“Yeah, me too.”

The air in the car held the content pensiveness for a few minutes of sunny road. There was no real heat behind it, just like there was no real heat in choosing between different rattan baskets of produce at the farmer’s market, and that same appreciation of the serenity itself washed over you. A surprise was just a surprise, not a potential threat, a date with Dean was just a date with Dean, no longer a finite, losable resource that had to be clawed at and fought for. You didn’t miss the heat. There was more than enough warmth in the sun streaming through the windows and Sam’s palm in yours.

As it did frequently, Dean’s face in your driveway flashed in your mind, the memory somehow simultaneously old-picture washed out yet vibrant—could dreams even be memories? aren’t all memories dreams, in a way?—collar of his jacket flicked up against the cold as he said “you have to get good with this,” the flit of tongue you could see as he shaped ‘th’ enough to shape a painting class around, send a dozen art students into psychosis for inability to capture it. It had been so hard to figure out how the fuck he expected you to, how cruel it felt for him to ask it, and the only way you’d gotten your head around it was that same Dean Winchester Denial & Self Sacrifice Special and accepted it at face value. When he’d died you hadn’t felt like so many movies and books about tragic loss, where the strong but sensitive woman you’re supposed to relate to spent a few months in poetic sadness growing waifish and crying picturesque tears in solitude until she realized she could carry on.

You couldn’t carry on.

You couldn’t carry anything—were dragging yourself along in the most generous of descriptions, some half-dead, half-smashed zombie version of yourself clinging to any will to live like a barnacle out of devotion and need for Sam. Getting Dean back felt like life raft thrown into the water. You really had wanted to spend the rest of your life asleep and were more than content to ingest as much dream root as it would take to decompose into the cabin’s mattress next to Sam, let your landlord find your skeletonized bodies after a few months of unpaid rent. Fuck him, kind as he’d been to two strangers who’d needed help, and fuck hunters’ funerals for you and Sam if it meant you didn’t have to keep drowning. Fuck Dean’s wishes especially, let him bend to someone else’s will for once.

At first, maybe the first month after the dream root, only logistical reasons kept you from following through. What you wanted—needed, would’ve ruined the world for—was Sam and Dean together, and you couldn’t find a way to get Sam to agree no matter how obliquely or obviously you asked. He was unbelievably patient with you during this period of near-psychosis, and you suspected that a lot of the new habits he constructed, maybe including your beloved farmer’s market, were designed to keep you away from the greenhouse for as many hours a day as possible. You knew what he was doing, but the bright glare of panic in his eyes whenever you ‘joked’ about growing bigger patches of those little white flowers slowed down your singular focus enough to humor him, telling yourself it was just stalling until you could make your move.

But damn if it hadn’t worked. Not that it stopped that tick-tick-tick in your brain counting down to Dean, but it made the days bearable. Just bearable, at first, the newness of your surroundings and the newness of Sam, all the things you hadn’t known about him after years of sitting inches away from each other in the Impala. And then it stopped being so much about fuck you Dean fuck getting good with you being gone and a little more about getting good with the way Sam’s hair dried if he went to bed right after showering, floppy, glossy loops and easy curls at the base of his neck; getting good with racing him down the rickety pier on the cabin’s shoreline, knowing he was letting you win and squealing all the way down anyway, jumping into the lake at dusk on Memorial Day with all your clothes on together as Sam cannonballed in behind you. Getting good with Sam’s arms around you as you both shuddered in the water, shrieking with laughter and a smile on his face of genuine, unbridled joy. Getting good with waiting for every other Sunday, because sometimes waiting was Sam bringing you a root beer float in your favorite mug while you read, and sometimes it was feeling him fall asleep against you while you scratched his back.

Then getting good with the way it became less taboo to talk about him, being able to casually repeat old jokes of Dean’s without feeling like you were being stabbed in the chest or being terrified of sending Sam into a spiral. Getting good with memories of your old life together, your old friends, truly able to appreciate them. Because Dean was right, you had been ‘upset because you wanted something that didn’t exist.’ You could stay upset about it, stay so fucking mad about the unfairness of it all, that after all Dean had done—for you, for the world—that he was fucking gone, didn’t get to live in a cabin or have a couple daughters to braid Uncle Sammy’s hair—God, Dean saying that had haunted you maybe more than anything—and let it necrotize you from the inside out. Or you could let the ways he had permeated your very being serve as more commemoration than most people ever dream of, appreciate that the Impala still felt like an extension of him, see glimmers of the way he and Sam were still connected every day.

And, of course, visit him at night to take the edge off, love him and kiss him and scream until you laughed. Annoying as it was to admit it, all that getting good slowly let you see what he’d been trying to open your eyes to in that driveway. You had so much more than anyone in the world. How stupid, how greedy, to have all of that and cut yourself off from anything else because it wasn’t exactly the way you wanted it to be. Looking back at it felt like watching a home video of yourself as a kid throwing a tantrum, but for ages, and you almost couldn’t believe Sam had stuck right by your side through it all, guided you gently and patiently even through his own battle. Sweet, beautiful, loyal Sam.

As if on cue, he looked over at you. The sun poured through the windshield and shone off his hair like a halo, sparkled like glitter in his eyes. Someone who’d had a normal life would’ve said he looked angelic. But you had so much more than that, got to see both that golden hour was giving you a bit of a heavy-handed metaphor and that Sam was not only more than angelic, he was the whole world. He was the life raft all along, Dean’s Herculean return to you the lighthouse that let you see what had been there from the start, what had never left. His fingers tightened around yours a fraction. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

The smile splitting your face felt like the first delicious stretch after sleeping in on a rainy morning. “Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without you.”

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 20

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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bao | myg | 2

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Min Yoongi is always late to start work. He’s late in starting a lot of things. Like telling you he loves you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of parental injury/surgery; SO MUCH fluff; non-idol!AU; (slightly more) jealous deliveryboy!Yoongi x hardworking chef!reader ft. bao fiend, next-door neighbor, model!Taehyung who can’t cook to save his life lol

"What's wrong?" Kim Taehyung asked as he bit into his bao. He asked for an extra sweet bun for his manager today. "Is it your dad?" he added, concern laced on his voice.

"No, not really. He has a checkup tomorrow." You gnawed on your lip as he excitedly chomped into his saucy beef bun. "Hopefully he's recovering well." You rubbed your forehead. Day by day, you could see Yoongi’s black eye healing, but you couldn’t help but worry about him. He had promised not to punch anyone heedlessly, but you doubted he meant it. "Don't get injured, Taehyung."

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. "Why would I get injured?"

"I don't know, but don't. I don't need any more stress," you chuckled dryly, not really amused but unsure exactly how you were feeling.

Taehyung tilted his head.

"Are you lonely?"

You raised your head. "Huh?"

"Have you seen your parents in person?"

You blinked. "Well, no. I have to prep, clean, and do errands on my off day. But I video call them often."

Taehyung shrugged. "You used to work at the counter and talk to people all day. Now you're only in the kitchen and the only human beings you see consistently are the delivery guy and I, right? They're all short interactions too." His brown eyes softened, almost parental. "It must be lonely."

You exhaled, feeling the invisible weight of the days’ past. "Maybe..."

Taehyung smiled. "Tell you what. I got a short day this week, so I'll stop by and help out. Just for fun!" He grinned wider now as you paled a bit at the thought. "You don't even have to pay me. I can do stuff!"

"Like what?" you laughed. "You can't cook, Taehyung."

He paused, realizing that was true. "I can clean!"

"You want to clean all day?"

"... I can eat!"

"Min Yoongi, Kim Taehyung."

Taehyung stuck his flour-covered hand out. "Hello! It's nice to meet you."

Yoongi blinked at his hand and gave him a small nod instead. Taehyung seemed to realize it was dirty and wiped his hands on a spare towel before eagerly grabbing Yoongi's hand and shaking it furiously. "I heard you're really dependable, hyung!"

Yoongi raised an eyebrow as his entire body shook with the force of Taehyung's handshake. He turned to your chuckling form rolling dough out into a circle.

"That's the biggest lie you've ever told."

You smiled as you filled the dough circle with spicy pork. "Not true. You are dependable. Dependably late every morning."

You failed to notice Yoongi's apologetic frown, but Taehyung didn't. The younger man tilted his head, observing Yoongi’s dark eyes watching your hands. You pinched the bun into a neat twist before setting it on the tray.

"Taehyung, that's not a circle," you chided playfully, pointing to the, well, blob on Taehyung's side of the counter.

Taehyung let go of Yoongi's hand. "I tried!" he whined childishly. "It's hard..."

Yoongi washed his hands clean as you wiped your hands on your apron. "Let me make lunch real quick while there's a break in orders and you two are here." You bumped into Yoongi as you headed to the sink, his wet hands colliding with your chest.

"Ack, sorry, sorry," Yoongi mumbled, sounding flustered, but you laughed, brushing the water off.

"And that's why I wear my dad's jacket," you mused, referring to the white chef's coat you wore under the apron and over your clothes.

You washed your hands at the sink, staring at the wide sleeves, remembering the call from earlier. Your father was recovering, but it would still be some time before he could work again and maybe not to his full capacity. Your father had protested, saying he felt fine. He was never one to complain about pain, but you knew he must have been hurting for years. If only he had gotten it checked out sooner. You sighed inwardly, but there was nothing you could do about it now. At the moment, you had to feed the two overgrown kids in your kitchen.

"Wow, hyung, you're good!"

You turned around to see Yoongi rolling Taehyung's dough into a circle, tongue resting on the side of his lips, getting a bit of flour onto his leather sleeves.

"Oh?"

You walked up behind him to see. Taehyung's dough was heavily over-kneaded, so the circle wasn't great but it was still a circle all the same. You smiled as Yoongi backed up, holding the wooden rolling pin awkwardly.

"My brother's a chef," he mumbled. "And I've... seen you do it hundreds of times."

You picked up the dough circle and placed it in your palm, cradling it in your hand as you filled it with spicy pork.

"Is it really spicy?" Taehyung asked worriedly.

You shook your head. "No, you should be fine. I remember you don't like your food too spicy." You pinched the top, twisting it prettily as you held it out to them. Taehyung looked it with sparkly eyes while Yoongi seemed embarrassed, eyes shifting awkwardly from the bun to the counter.

"It took three people to make this," you said with a laugh. “Hopefully it tastes good.”

You cut it in half evenly a few hours later, almost closing time. You held out one half to Taehyung and one half to Yoongi, whose cheeks were flushed from running around outside. He had worked hard all day, and you even had clients calling, complimenting on his speed and efficiency. Taehyung, well, Taehyung had been great company, although not particularly useful. A fun change from your usual lonesome day.

Steam rose from the meat and white dough, soft and pliable.

The bun warmed your hands and their faces warmed your heart.

“What about you?” Taehyung said, taking one of the halves from you.

You grinned. “Nah, I’ll pass. I don’t want to get poisoned.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “Hey! You made the dough. All I did was roll it into a circle.”

“Actually, I rolled it into a circle,” Yoongi pointed out.

Taehyung fluffed his cheeks. “I rolled it into an almost circle.”

You recalled the shape of the blob with a scrutinous and amused frown. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“It’s good.”

You turned your head to see Yoongi chewing. The half-bun was still in your fingers, a bite taken out of it. Had he… eaten it from your hand? You stared at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. His long fingers reached out and gripped the half, fingertips brushing against yours. He was still chewing, nodding thoughtfully.

“Not too spicy either.”

Your hand was still in the air. You quickly put it down and turned your attention to Taehyung, who took a huge bite.

“Ah! Hot!”

You laughed, fanning the space around his mouth. “Of course, it is. I just steamed it.”

Taehyung’s jaw wiggled as he tried to blow the steam off his tongue, panicked noises coming from his throat as you grabbed a water bottle and opened it for him so he could cool it off with a gulp of cool liquid.

“Ah, what am I going to do with you, Taehyung…”

You counted out Yoongi’s pay from the day’s total, calculating quickly. This was the easiest part of the day for you. Math came to you naturally. Cooking was much harder, at least when it came to cooking even half as good as your father.

“Do you like Taehyung?”

You had sent Taehyung home with bags full of buns to give to his parents. He had left with a skip in his step and a huge boxy grin, thanking you repeatedly and almost dropping everything. You had to yell at him to be careful at least three times.

“Of course, Taehyung’s my friend,” you chuckled. “He can be a bit all over the place though.”

“I meant in a more than friends kind of way.”

You stopped and looked up from you calculator. Yoongi was leaning over the counter, one arm perched on it, black leather jacket open and revealing his black-and-white patterned dress shirt. You noticed the first couple buttons were undone. Silver chains hung around his neck, decorating his collarbones. His long fingers tapped on the wood, silver rings glinting against his pale skin.

“Taehyung?” You shrugged. “Not really. Never thought of him that way.”

Yoongi gave you a long, discerning look. His dark brown eyes searched yours, hooded by his black bangs. It was making you uncomfortable. Suddenly, you could feel the flecks of flour on your cheeks, the scent of oil and cooked meat hanging from your clothes and hair. You went back to the calculations, busying yourself with bookkeeping.

This silence was weird. Usually, Yoongi was wordlessly waiting for you to finish so he could leave, but for some reason today it felt bizarre. You furrowed your brow as you recorded the day’s sales and Yoongi’s pay, subtracting it from the total.

“That’s good, because I like you in a more than friends kind of way.”

You placed Yoongi’s pay in an envelope and held it out to him. “Here you go. I added a little bonus for helping me babysit Taehyung today.”

Your gaze locked with Yoongi’s.

Then his words really hit you.

You blinked at him and his completely neutral expression. He wasn’t taking the envelope. Instead, he tilted his head, stare penetrating through your soul. Your heartbeat was suddenly in your ears. It felt like your face was right next to the stove, flushed from the fire.

“W… what?”

Yoongi nodded as if this was the expected result. “I figured I should tell you before Taehyung attempts to run off with you.”

You blinked rapidly, the heat increasing on your face. “W… what are you talking about?” you nervously laughed, placing the envelope in the counter and sliding it to him. You shook your head, trying to dissipate the heat. “You’ve gone too far with your jokes.”

Yoongi placed a hand on the envelope.

Then he lifted himself up and over the counter, launching his entire body over it.

You started, pinning yourself back into the wall, eyes widening as his black, thick-soled boots hit the tile floor. He was wearing black jeans again, the ones with a rip on the right knee. He lifted his head, making eye contact with you once again.

“It’s not a joke.”

He looked over to the recordkeeping book and closed it for you. Took the wad of cash that was the day’s sales and tied it in a rubber band, the same way you did it every night. Placed your pen where you placed it every night, next to the pen cup and not actually in it. You watched him, somewhat fascinated that he remembered all these details despite you never thinking about your habits as you did them, either in mid-conversation with him or simply worn out from the day.

Yoongi placed the cash on the recordkeeping book and turned back to face you.

“I’m serious.”

You remembered the moments that you brushed off so easily before. Yoongi’s body hitting yours when you grabbed his cap, the way he felt pushed up against you, breath on your neck. His fingertips touching yours, making you flinch involuntarily. Him eating from your hand earlier that day. The weird silence just now when he asked you if you liked Taehyung.

Your eyes shifted uneasily.

“Well… what I supposed to say?” you asked quietly.

For a long moment, Yoongi didn’t respond. Then he smiled, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Nothing.”

He turned around.

But before he could walk off, before Yoongi could leave and come back in the morning, late as usual, you grabbed his leather jacket and yanked him back, spinning him back around. His lips parted, startled at your sudden movement, and you pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened.

So did yours.

The scent of leather and pine hit your nose. His lips felt soft. He tasted a little like the spicy pork you fed him earlier. It was a nearly a week after the black eye incident and it was barely noticeable anymore, with only small hints of bruising on his pale skin. He healed fast. You quickly drew back and grabbed the envelope, shoving it at him and pushing past, stunned that you did such a thing, hurriedly running to the kitchen. Or would have, if Yoongi’s arm didn’t block your exit, making you jerk back and hit him in the chest.

Now both your hands were on his black and white dress shirt, holding his pay against him.

You couldn’t look Yoongi in in the face. It was too awkward. You just stared at his neck, at the glittering silver necklaces.

“I have eyes, you know.”

You swallowed, grabbing his hand and placing it on the envelope. His fingers wrapped around yours. His other hand came up, tracing the buttons of his dress shirt. You flinched, jerking your head up as your free hand covered the one on his button placket. His silver rings felt cool against your hot palm.

“What are you doing?”

Yoongi cocked his head. You never realized how raspy and sexy his voice was until now. ‘Well, you didn’t want to look at my face, so I figured I would give you something else to look at.”

Your eyes darted from his hand to his face, flabbergasted.

“Don’t… play around,” you muttered, frowning.

Yoongi leaned down.

“I’m not.”

And now he kissed you, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against yours, sweetly but firmly, inhaling. You tried to break away, words tumbling from your lips.

“I’ve been working all day; I reek of grease,” you sputtered, but Yoongi grabbed your head and kissed you again, pressing your body against his, dusting flour onto the black leather, your body shuddering at the closeness, falling into his arms. Lips so soft they felt like pillows, not something you expected from lazy, late Yoongi.

“You smell nice,” he chuckled against your lips. “I love food. I especially love all the food you make.”

He kissed you between his words, light, feathery kisses that made you breathless.

“I should have told you every day,” Yoongi murmured. “Thank you for always packing everything so well and making my job so easy. Thank you for always making food for me and giving me the extras. Thank you for not firing me.”

You laughed a little against his lips. “You would have been fired a long time ago if you worked anywhere else.”

He kissed your forehead, a long, delicate one, far too beautiful to not be romantic. You felt your heartbeat slow to a crawl.

“I don’t want to work anywhere else,” he mumbled, so low you could barely hear him even though you were this close. “I want to stay by your side forever.”

What was this? Your hands tensed under his and he tightened his grip around your fingers.

“A little sudden for simply getting free food from your job,” you teased.

Yoongi lifted his face from your forehead, removing your hands from his chest. He turned them around, palms up, pressing his thumbs into them. Smiled down at you.

“It’s not free,” he said softly. “These hands work hard every day.”

Yoongi looked deep into your eyes.

“I never think the food you give me is free, because I see how much effort it takes to make them as delicious as they are.”

Your vision felt a little blurry for some reason.

“You should bring some to your parents. Your father would be proud of you.”

And for some reason, those words meant more to you than anything in the world.

“Is this vegetarian?” Yoongi asked curiously as he chewed.

“Yeah.”

He frowned a little. “I don’t like vegetables.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you, five?”

His eyes narrowed. “I was going to say, but I like this.”

You felt your ears burn. “Oh.”

Yoongi smirked, leaning over to kiss you, smelling like leather, silver rings glimmering in the kitchen lights.

3. smut.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #yoongi scenarios

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thatsbucknasty · 3 years

Text

she used to be mine (x) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

tags are closed

chapter 10: I didn’t plan it

Two months pass and I realize it’s only a matter of weeks before I meet my baby girl. I’ve been working hard to save more money but I’m still not even close to the amount I’m gonna need for the birth AND the divorce. It’s been really hard to put my pride aside and accept the help my friends offer, I guess I’m used to being left to my own devices since I was very young. But I love my little family. Bucky and Sam drive me home every night after closing and Wanda has been bringing me gifts for the baby. Nat’s contact will be handling my divorce and she said they would give us a payment plan so that it won’t be so difficult to pay all at once. I still don’t understand how that’s gonna work but I trust her. She’s being very strange though, but Natasha’s one of those people who deal with issues on their own and compartmentalizes everything. Still, I’m worried about her. I guess I can’t judge her, we’re the same in that department.

Old Nick hasn’t been around much lately, says he’s taking care of his health. Guess my pies aren’t the healthiest meal for an eighty-something year old man. Maybe I should start adding more vegetables to my own diet, I’m creating life inside of me after all.

“Hey boys, what can I getcha?” Wanda flirts with Steve at the counter and Bucky laughs, he seems to be getting used to their corny, slightly inappropriate conversations.

“Oh I don’t know, sweetheart. What’s the special pie today?” Steve flirts back at her.

“Well, Y/N made her famous ‘Slutty brownie pie’ today and if you want, I could make it even sluttier-”

“Guys! Not in front of my salad, please!” Sam scolds them and Bucky’s just laughing at Steve’s red cheeks. Wanda rolls her eyes at him and motions Steve to follow her away from the group.

I come out of the kitchen ready to leave and see Steve and Wanda making out in the far corner of the counter, while Bucky and Sam talk about an AC/DC concert they both attended back when they didn’t know each other. Sam’s also taking care of his diet it seems, but Bucky’s stuffing his mouth with my brownie pie. I don’t actually understand how he can eat so much and still look absolutely stunning.

“Guys! Keep it in your pants. It’s movie night, we’re leaving!” I scold them and Steve’s blush has reached his ears and neck at this point.

“Thank you! I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks those two are such horny teenagers”. Sam throws his hands in the air and hangs his apron, ready to go.

“I think they’re adorable, but I’m tired and hungry, and I don’t want any more pie today so let’s go, where’s Nat?” I look around trying to find the redhead.

“She said she needed to be alone tonight but she’ll be at the party tomorrow”. Wanda says and we share the same worried look on our eyes.

“Oh, okay. Shall we?”

We get to Bucky’s apartment and today’s pick is on Steve cause tomorrow’s his birthday. He chooses 1986’s Labyrinth. We order pizza and sushi and enjoy the magical spectacle on the screen.

I can’t stop thinking about my divorce and all the bills that are waiting for me in the future. Raising a child isn’t cheap. Bucky holds my hand at one point, under the blanket that we’re sharing. I guess he senses my worry and tries to make it go away. I’m glad he does. Lately I’ve just been letting myself fall for him because fighting against it it’s a lost cause. He’s the sweetest guy, brings me home safely anytime he’s able to, he cares about my friends and most importantly, he’s patient and doesn’t rush me to do anything I’m not ready to do. His parents raised him right, what’s a girl supposed to do?

Next day is organized chaos, thanks to Wanda and her frantic need for everything to be perfect. She really loves Steve and he’s a good guy. They deserve each other, truly.

Nat’s helping Sam hang decorations around Wanda’s backyard. It’s a mixture of 4th of July colors and Happy Birthday signs. We’re not doing the whole fireworks thing, since Wanda’s birthday present for Steve wouldn’t like the noise. But there’s a flatscreen set up to watch them on tv.

I’m in the kitchen, chopping some tomatoes for a pico de gallo I’m making. Bucky’s setting up the barbecue outside and I can see him from the window. He keeps messing it up and starting again, making the funniest, exasperated faces. I told him Steve could do it in no time but he insisted he’s the birthday boy and should just enjoy this day.

Speaking of Steve, he’s on his way. It ain’t a surprise party but we still wanted to set everything up before he got here.

We’re all enjoying the cool summer breeze, watching football on a projector Wanda set up in the backyard, we have hotdogs and guacamole and chips, the guys have beer which of course I can’t have, but Bucky was kind enough to make me an entire jug of pink lemonade just for me. I’m not really interested in the game, to be honest and my bladder is full so I separate myself from Buck and look around to realize Natasha isn’t here. Since this is not my house and I need to find the restroom I ask Wanda for some help instead and we enter the house together.

She points me to the toilet and I open the door to find Nat and Sam wrapped around each other, half naked.

“OH MY GOD! What’s happening here?!” I immediately cover my eyes and close the door.

“Y/N, you’re okay? What is it? Don’t tell me you found a rat cause I hate them so much, Gosh I told Steve we should’ve done this at my place, is way cleaner”.

“I- I- no- um. It’s not a rat it’s a- um. I’m sorry-”

“Y/N! Let me explain-” Natasha comes out the restroom with her blouse half buttoned up, makeup almost completely ruined.

“I don’t- I don’t need you to expla- can somebody please lead me to another bathroom or something? I’m about to piss myself!”

“Sure, honey, let’s go”. Wanda grabs me, she apparently understands what’s going on, looking at Nat’s disheveled state and brings me upstairs to another room.

“What’s going on? I heard the girls yell”. Bucky enters the house and sees Sam and Nat cornered in the kitchen, looking like they’ve seen a ghost.

“Nothing, man. I think it’s time for me to leave. Say happy birthday to Steve for me”. Sam kisses Nat on the cheek and leaves the house.

“Wha- Natasha, are you okay?” Bucky stands there awkwardly, trying to break the tension.

“I’m fine, but the girls and I need to talk privately. Would you distract Steve for us? He doesn’t need to hear about this. Tell him we’re talking about pregnancy stuff with Y/N or something”.

“Oh-kay? Are you sure you’re alright though, you seem-”

“I’m fine, Bucky. Now go talk to Steve, he’s out there alone on his birthday”.

“Well, he looks fine! He’s watching the Patriots destroy the- Okay got it, see you later”. Bucky awkwardly scurries down to the kitchen and grabs a couple more beers and brings them outside.

“Knock-knock”. Natasha enters Steve’s bedroom and sees Wanda sitting on the bed.

“Hey”.

“Hey. Y/N still peeing?”

“I don’t think so. But I think she’s crying”.

“God she’s always so dramatic”.

“Hey! You should’ve told us! Do you know how worried about you we’ve been? We thought you were sick or something! Not wanting to hang out with us. We were supposed to plan a baby shower for her by now but you’ve been M.I.A.”.

“ I know, and I’m sorry”. Nat sighs and knocks on the bathroom door.

“Y/N, come out. We know you’re done so let’s go. We need to talk”.

I wipe my tears. I don’t know why I feel betrayed. Sam and Nat are my best friends, I should be happy for them. Damn hormones making me cry like a little baby every time something’s out of place.

“Hey”. I sniff and open the door to see Natasha rolling her eyes at me.

“Why the hell are you crying?”

“Oh I’m sorry for being a hormonal mess but seeing two of my best friends, one of them who’s married by the way, making out like horny teenagers would definitely cause me some distress!”

“Uh huh, and how is this any different to you and Bucky holding hands and making eyes at each other every single minute? May I remind you, you’re still married too!”

“Oh my God, Natasha, you did not! I’m getting a divorce, you know that!”

“Yeah, I know. And I understand and not make a fuss about it, until you decide to judge me for the exact same thing you’ve been doing!”

“Why- ah. Sorry, I know I’m looking like a complete hypocrite right now. It’s just- you guys are my friends and you’ve been acting so strange lately, it had me so worried and I feel like I could’ve been there for you, just as much as you’ve been there for me. You guys are my sisters”.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But Sam and I wanted to figure out what we wanted first and you know how I am. I fall down the rabbit hole and I keep it to myself cause I’m too proud to admit I’m weak”.

“Natasha, please. You’re anything BUT weak. You’re the one who’s always showing us how strong we really are!” Wanda chimes in and holds both mine and Nat’s hands in hers.

“Okay girls, listen up, from now on we need to make a pact that whenever one of us starts to close off from each other, we will make an intervention for that person and keep ourselves accountable for our shitty ways to cope with men, and life, and money problems, and cleaning obsessions, is that clear?” Nat kisses the top of my head and Wanda laughs at her declaration.

Somehow I feel like everything’s about to change, hopefully for the better.

chapter 11: she used to be mine

#she used to be mine #waitress au #waitress musical #bucky x reader #doctor!Bucky #waitress!reader #avengers au #marvel au #Bucky Barnes #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #quentin beck #Steve Rogers #nina writes

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒/𝐎

Requested by: @seacottons

❄𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong smiled proudly at his work of art. He carefully picked up the gingerbread house and held it up.

"Look look baby!" He exclaimed, bouncing lightly on his feet as he showed you it.

"Oh my God! It looks amazing!"

The smile on your face that was happy for Hongjoong soon turned to a pout though as you stared down at your own creation. Hongjoong peeked over and noticed why you were sad. Your gingerbread house was falling apart, barely standing up, and the frosting was smeared all over the place, including your face and hair.

"Awww sweetheart come on." Hongjoong cooed as he began to wipe some of the frosting off your face.

"I suck and I hate Christmas." You huffed softly, your arms crossing over your chest.

"Stop you don't mean that." He said cupping your cheeks.

"Tell you what? How about we go back to the store and I buy you that spongebob gingerbread house you wanted and build it for you?"

Your eyes lit up at his comment.

"Really?!" You squealed.

Hongjoong kissed your frosted nose, licking some of it off and then winked at your blushing figure.

"Come on baby. We want to get there before it closes."

❄𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

"Baby baby look!"

You rolled your eyes as your boyfriend once again got sidetracked from your task and began pulling you to see some of the items on display.

"Seonghwa! We're supposed to be shopping for gifts for the boys." You reminded him.

"I know, I know...but look how cute these are!"

Seonghwa couldn't help himself as he picked up some of the baby mittens and hats. He giggled as he held them out to you.

"Seonghwa? Who are those supposed to fit? Yunho?" You rolled your eyes.

"No silly! But I was thinking....you know.."

Seonghwa wiggled his eyes suggestively at you. When you caught onto his meaning, you smacked his arm and started walking away.

"You're....ugh!

Seonghwa quickly put the stuff down and walked behind you.

"Why are you against this?! I thought you wanted to give me what I wanted for Christmas and I want a positive pregnancy test!".

He cried out then quickly turned cause something caught his eye.

"Look this is perfect for Mingi!"

You sighed as you realized it was gonna be a long day.

❄𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

You and Yunho were currently putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree. You felt so proud at the color combination you picked out. You tilted your head when you heard a cluttering sound.

"Oops?" Yunho smiled shyly as he began to pick up some of the glass balls that he had accidentally dropped on the floor.

"Yuyu careful. I don't want you cutting yourself." You said as you helped him pick them up.

"I'll be fine love. They didn't even shatter." He assured you.

After you guys picked up the ornaments and finished putting them up, you both began clapping and jumping up and down.

"It's almost finished."

You picked up the last item, a shiny gold star to put on the top of the tree. You happily walked over to the tree.

"Baby? Need me to do it?" Yunho offered.

"I can do it!"

You reached up but unfortunately couldn't reach all the way to the top. You stood on your tippy toes, but still couldn't place the star on the top. Defeated, you turned with a pout to Yunho. He merely chuckled as he took the star away from you.

"Don't worry love. It's what I'm here for."

He kissed your cheek before proceeding to lift you up on his arm.

"Come on. Let's finish decorating the tree together."

❄𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

"Yeosang. Can you please take out the cookies from the oven?" You asked as you assembled the frosting and the piping bags.

Making sure to put on oven mittens, Yeosang carefully took out the sugar cookies from the oven and placed the tray on the counter, fanning them out gently.

"Perfect! Now we can start decorating them!" You handed a bag to Yeosang.

Yeosang and you quietly began decorating the cookies, adding different figures and cute designs on them. You felt Yeosang tapping eagerly on your shoulder so you stopped what you were doing to see what he had done.

"Hehet." He chuckled as he showered you a blue cookie decorated with a white Hehetmon.

That wasn't the end, he then held up a cookie that resembled an angry bird.

"It's Seonghwa Hyung!"

You bursted out laughing at how cute your boyfriend was. You were so caught up in your task of decorating the cookies, you almost..... almost didnt notice the hands that swindled one of the cookies.

"Yeosang did you just ate one of the cookies?" You placed your hands on your hips.

Yeosang turned to you with a shocked look on his face.

"Nnno..." He muffled a lie, mouth full of the pastry he stole.

You shook your head and tried to hit him with the nearby whisk, but he quickly evaded you.

"You know I have a sweet tooth!"

❄𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San made sure not to hurt himself as he hammered the nails onto the wall. It wasn't easy considering a certain furry feline decided it was a good time to start rubbing her body on his leg.

"Byeol, babygirl. As soon as I'm finished I'll give you cuddles ok?" He smiled down at the cat.

The cat however glared at him. Hissing softly, she left to join you on the couch, where you were busy trying to finish filling the stockings with goodies and candies. Byeol began meowing at you, sprawling her body across your lap.

"Byeol, sweetheart. Soon ok?" You said as you gently put her down, which she did not appreciate.

Soon both you and San were finished.

"Ok. Let's hang them up now."

You two slowly placed two stockings first, testing the waters to make sure they wouldn't fall off or rip. You both stepped back and let it stay for a few seconds before deciding it was ok.

"We did it!" San clapped as he turned back to you and gave you a high five and then pulled you in for a hug.

"All right. Let's finish putting the others-"

You couldn't finish your sentence when you two turned around and saw that the rest of the stockings had been ransacked through, some of them even with a couple of tears. You guys then witnessed a very angry cat perch itself on the top of the couch, daring you to say something.

"Ah come on Byeol! We worked really hard on them!" San complained but was met by a low hiss.

You giggled. "Come on. Let's just drink some hot chocolate and give snuggles to our child before she decides to tear up the Christmas tree."

❄𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi hopped from one side of the stove to another, peering down at your task of slowly stirring the boiling pot in front of you. He turned his face, bringing it really close to yours.

"Is it ready yet?"

You sighed as he asked for the 6th time in less than 2 minutes.

"Mingi, I told you the hot chocolate will be ready soon." You repeated to him.

He whined and shook his shoulders slightly. Rolling your eyes, you handed him the spoon.

"Stir this for a bit. I'm gonna run down to the bathroom for a while."

Taking off your apron, you made a quick stop at the restroom. As soon as you came out, you head Mingi yelp from the kitchen. Quickly pulling out the first aid kit, you ran back to see what happened. Mingi's bottom lip quivered as he held out his hand.

"I accidentally burnt myself." He whimpered softly.

You tried to be as careful as possible while you rubbed ointment on the red patch on his skin and finished bandaging it up.

"There. All better?" You asked.

Mingi smiled shyly. "Can you kiss it to make the boo boo feel better?"

You giggled and tenderly kissed his hand. "You know you're such a dork..."

Leaning up, you pecked his lips.

"But you're my dork."

❄𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

"Wooyoung. Press start now." You urged him.

"No! I'm not starting the movie until the popcorn is ready." He wouldn't budge.

"You won't miss much of it." You shook his arm.

"I am not starting a movie until all the required snacks are in place."

Right at that moment, the microwave beeped and Wooyoung quickly sped over to retrieve the popcorn. As soon as he set it down, he jumped back inside the pillow and blanket fort you two created, effectively tackling you down, making you groan and complain when he began adjusting around.

"Cuddle me! I wanna be the little spoon." He grabbed your arms and wrapped them around him.

You rolled your eyes but nonetheless cuddled up to Wooyoung as you started your Christmas movie marathon. Wooyoung would occasionally make you feed him popcorn or chocolate, or he'd end up throwing some at your face when you thought he'd feed you as well. He'd laugh every time you smacked his hand.

"Look baby! You're on tv!" He pointed to the screen when the Grinch came up.

"You're so annoying!" You exclaimed as you got up and let go of him.

Wooyoung wasn't having it though. He quickly pulled you back down and wrapped his legs around you, making you the little spoon this time.

"Come on baby. You know I'm kidding. I love you so much." He confessed as he attacked your cheek with kisses.

❄𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho carefully patted some more snow onto the snowman you were currently building. You had gone inside to get a hat and scarf to wrap around it. When you came back out and notices how focused he was, you decided it'd be fun to mess with him. Picking up some snow, you made it into a tiny ball before throwing it at the back of his head.

"Hey!"

Jongho screeched as he turned around, but was met with another snowball to the face that you threw at him. You giggled at him as he stared at you unamused. He bent down and picked up a large handful of snow and began walking towards you. You let out a squeal and began running as fast as you could, trying to escape your boyfriend's revenge.

"Get back here Y/N!" He shouted from behind, a smile plastered on his face.

Jongho ended up discarding the snowball and instead tackled you down onto the snow before proceeding to roll you guys around on it. He ended up pining you down and both of you were giggling like crazy.

"Oh..." You stopped laughing and looked at the tree above you.

Jongho followed your gaze to see a mistletoe hanging by one of the branches right above you guys. He looked back at you and smiled softly.

"I mean.....it is tradition." He mused as he bent down to tenderly kiss your lips.

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez christmas fic #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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wandas-sunshine · 3 years

Text

Sugar Sweet

Summary: Your family owns a cute little bakery, and Peter has a sweet tooth. Plus the view doesn’t hurt.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1,365

A/N: This is kinda short and not that great, also unedited but please let me know what you think!

Sugar Sweet Bakery was your family’s pride and joy. It was small, but the locals liked it well enough to keep it from going under. And you did too. You’d grown up in the bakery, spending your days cleaning, or doing homework at the tables. You lived in the apartment up above it. It was your favorite place in the world.

Your favorite part was always the regulars. There was the elderly couple, the McLaughlins, who always came in on Saturdays for their coffee and a nice treat. They tipped well even after three years. And Lily, a pretty middle aged woman who would pop in after particularly bad days at the insurance company she worked at. She would always tell you fun stories about her coworkers. But your favorite was Peter. He was your age, and was always friendly even though he still couldn’t look you in the eye after a year of coming in nearly every day.

Some days he’d just come in for a drink and sit by himself working on whatever homework he had. Others he’d bring his friends along with him, or stop by on his way home to pick up something for him and his aunt.

You didn’t remember the first time he visited, or the second, but by his third you had begun to recognize the cute boy with the kind smile. Pretty soon you’d picked up on his routines. He had a habit of looking over the display and asking if there was anything new. If there was, he always tried it with a grin. On days where there wasn’t he’d just order something sweet.

It had taken months for you to build up the courage to really talk to him. It was always tiny things, just snippets of conversation that never failed to make you giddy for the rest of the day. It was a little bit pathetic but you didn’t care one bit.

“Hey guys, hi Peter,” You’d said, bringing the drinks out to him and his friends as they mulled over what seemed to be a school project. You were terrified. Talking to new people was hard, and talking to pretty strangers was even more difficult. But he’d flashed you a sweet smile, and that was enough to strike up a sort of friendship.

He had begun sharing things with you in tiny pieces. He’d talk about his friends, or his Aunt May, about the classes he was taking at school and about academic decathlon. It was cool that he was so damn smart. You fell harder and faster than you’d expected to considering that the two of you were practically strangers. But he seemed to fit so nicely into your life. After all, his favorite place was your bakery too.

Your cousin had been pushing you to confess for the better half of the year, but you just couldn't bring yourself to risk ruining what had taken so long to build. After all, he still hardly looked you in the eye. Sometimes you wondered if he was simply being polite, if he didn’t like you at all. The thought of him disliking you made you queasy.

You looked up when the little bell twinkled from over the door. You bit back a grin when you saw your favorite customer.

“Hey, Pete! What’ll it be today?” You asked, brushing your hands over your apron, He messed with his hair, eyes scanning the display as he tried to decide.

“Got anything new?” He asked, his hands sliding into his pockets. You hummed an affirmation and pointed towards the newest addition to your menu.

“Glazed cinnamon apple buns. I think you’d like them, they’re sweet.” You suggest, glancing up at him. And for just a moment, your eyes met and your heart damn near leapt out of your chest.

“Yeah, I’ll take one of those. And a cocoa, extra chocolate.” You knew that already, but you nodded and rung him up. You never understood why he turned so bashful with you. He didn’t seem to have that demeanor with anyone else.

“So, what’s on the agenda for Peter Parker today?” You asked, passing back his change and starting on his drink. He looked back to his feet.

“I have some internship...stuff,” He answered, clearing his throat. You smiled at the precious nervousness that he always seemed to be drowning in. You’d grown a bit fond of it. You carefully slipped his bun into a go bag and slid his cup across to him.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep you. Don’t want to waste any of your time. I mean, I’m sure Mr. Stark has lots he needs you to do.” You laughed a little, trying not to feel too guilty for holding him up with your small talk. You knew that the Stark internship meant the world to him.

“You’re never a waste of time,” He mumbled. It was so quiet that you nearly didn’t hear what he’d said. Once your mind had processed the words, your pulse raced. The mere thought of him enjoying your company made you feel like you were floating. He picked up his drink and tucked his bag into his backpack. “See you tomorrow.”

A week passed in the same routine. Decorations had gone up as the weather outside started to get bad. Peter had taken to seeking refuge from the cold inside your bakery. It was a safe haven, and knowing that you’d usually be there only sealed the deal.

He had taken a liking to you, much more than he was willing to admit aloud. You were sweet, and you noticed him in a way that most people simply didn’t. And, as shocking as it always seemed to him, you were genuinely interested in what he had to say.

There was only a few more days to Christmas, so the streets were bustling even despite the freezing temperatures of Queens. He slipped through the door and was met by a wave of warmth and the pleasant scent of baked goods.

The bakery was even cozier than usual, decked out in holiday decorations that he’d seen you putting all of your effort into. It looked like Santa had thrown up all over the place, but he didn’t mind the festivity too much.

“Hey, Pete! Just the guy I was hoping to see.” You mused. “I’ve got a present for ya.”

“A present?” He questioned, his confusion evident on his face. You nodded and ducked behind the counter for a moment. When you popped back up you had a basket overflowing with goodies in your hands. There were some hot chocolate packets, and a few different types of store bought candy, but more than anything else it was filled with fresh baked goods. You’d settled a card right in the top, and even tied a bow around the handle.

“Merry Christmas.” You smiled at him, and he swore that nothing else mattered, not when you looked at him like that. “I put your favorites, and some of May’s too. I hope it’s okay.”

“It’s awesome I-” He looked back up, meeting your eye and sending butterflies coursing through your stomach again. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know, but I wanted to. You spend so much money and time here, and you’re so nice so I just thought I’d-”

“(Y/N), do you want to go out sometime?” He blurted, effectively cutting off your nervous ramblings. You felt time slow down. No, there was no way that Peter Parker - sweet Peter Parker - was asking you on a date. You were practically trembling from the mixture of panic and giddy excitement.

“Yeah, yes. I’d love that.” You agreed. The look of unease on his face gave way to one of confusion, then pure joy.

“Really? I mean cool, okay. Here, um,” He grabbed a napkin and fished a pen out of his bag. Once he’d scrawled his number he passed it to you. “I gotta go, but text me, okay? I’ll see you later.” He grinned, grabbing his basket and waving goodbye awkwardly before slipping back out into the cold.

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